


Opposites Attract

by HesitateDisintegrate



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Adopted Children, Adoptive Parent Bobby Singer, Alternate Universe - College/University, Art, Artist Castiel (Supernatural), Beaches, Brotherly Love, Campfires, Castiel/Dean Winchester First Kiss, Chef Gabriel (Supernatural), Concerts, Cuddling, Cuddling & Snuggling, Cuddling Castiel/Dean Winchester, Dead Adam Milligan, Dead John Winchester, Dead Mary Winchester, Dreams and Nightmares, First Kiss, Fluff and Angst, Football | Soccer Player Dean Winchester, Forensics, Human Castiel (Supernatural), Hurt Dean Winchester, M/M, Mechanic Dean Winchester, Nightmares, POV Dean Winchester, Platonic Cuddling, Protective Gabriel, School, Shameless, Sharing a Bed, Slow Burn, Smut, Walks On The Beach
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-01
Updated: 2021-03-04
Packaged: 2021-03-05 04:06:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 20
Words: 55,605
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25008169
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HesitateDisintegrate/pseuds/HesitateDisintegrate
Summary: Dean is in his fourth year studying to become a forensic investigator. He took a classic English class for fun, expecting something offbeat from his regular courses. What he did not expect was to meet the gorgeous and incredibly creative art major Castiel, nor to fall for him.
Relationships: Castiel & Dean Winchester, Castiel/Dean Winchester
Comments: 135
Kudos: 133





	1. Mismatched Shoes

**Author's Note:**

> I really don’t know guys. This concept (trope?) has been rattling around in my brain for too long now, and it is slowly but surely grating its way out. I have some idea of where this will eventually lead, but its hard to give a good summary because these things tend to write themselves. I can tell you its a university AU, and other than that I intend to have some fun with it. Join me for a wild ride, chapters will be posted as they are written (every couple days, ish, hopefully?). Anywho, here’s the nonsense.

Dean’s feet made light sounds as he ran along the beach, barely skimming over the sand. The morning air was crisp, and the sunrise so vibrant it seemed like even the sky was giving one last hurrah to the summer break. 

Each rough inhale burned in the pleasant way that only running can cause, and just as he felt he was going to burst from exertion, his watch gave two quiet beeps, signalling that it was time to turn around and head home if he wanted to be ready in time for his first class. 

Dean linked his hands behind his head, inhaling deeply to try and catch his breath while admiring the way the rising sun glinted off the water. 

Soon, the madness of research papers, assignments, exams, and those horrid morning classes would be upon him. But for now, there was nothing but peace. 

He had worked hard this summer, maintaining a full time job at the local auto shop and a putting in a couple hours per week at the gym, cleaning machines, spotting, and teaching the odd workout class. His choices for work were simple; the shop job helped ease his homesickness, and the gym job helped ease the cost of a membership. 

Over the four month break, he had saved up enough money to be able to keep paying his rent, even if he dropped down to only a few shifts a week. Goodness knows that would be likely. Fourth year forensics would not be easy by any stretch of the imagination, and Dean was not inclined to let his grades slip and risk losing his scholarship. 

Sure, it was unlikely that the university would so royally screw over their star soccer player, but he wasn’t taking any chances. 

With one final inhale of the clean sea air, he turned away from the waterfront and started a light jog back to his apartment. 

Half an hour later, Dean was perched on the landing of the mostly rusted fire escape jutting out from his apartment window, cooling coffee in hand. He was freshly showered and fully dressed, but still dragging out the seconds until he absolutely had to start walking towards campus. 

There was something about the feeling of summer break that he couldn’t quite bring himself to let go of. He couldn’t say he hated school, but it was plain to him, always had been, that his place in the world was not behind a book, it was somewhere on a crime scene. 

He was a man of action, analytical and restless, and although he knew that the studying came before the job, especially one as specialized as a forensic investigator, it didn’t make the process any less tedious. 

Dean replayed Bobby’s words of _“no good thing comes without work and no son of mine is going to throw away a perfectly good opportunity when it lands right in front of him.”_

He smiled and dragged himself back in through the window, placed his empty coffee mug in the sink, and grabbed his keys and backpack on his way out the door. 

The walk to campus wasn’t long, fifteen minutes at most if he took his time, but he never took his time. The apartment was in a fairly seedy part of the city, and although Dean wasn’t outright scared to be there, he wasn’t entirely at ease, what with the faceless eyes trailing him from the alleys and the broken glass and cigarette butts crunching under his shoes. 

He had barely arrived on campus when a familiar large hand clapped him on the shoulder.

“Dean! Just the man I was looking for.”

“Benny!” Dean threw an arm around his friend’s shoulder in greeting. “Its been too long man.”

“The summer flew by.”

“How was it?”

“It was with family. The heartache and the bliss, you know how it is.”

Dean did in fact, know how it was. The ups and downs always seemed to be heightened when family meetings were a rarity. 

Dean would have loved to have spent more of the summer with familiar faces but Benny had gone back home to work for the summer, and Bobby’s place was a plane ride away. Plane tickets for a casual visit were not a commodity Dean could afford. 

“How are you feeling about the tryouts?” Benny questioned as they fell into step together towards the main building.

Dean had, of course, been helping coach Mills with the preliminary training for anyone who was on campus early enough to start prepping for the tryouts. 

“There are some promising new faces out there thats for sure.”

“Good. We could use some fresh blood.” Benny grinned, hiking up his backpack which was no doubt bulging with fresh math textbooks. 

“I’ve gotta run brother, I’m meeting with Cole. Should I swing by your place tonight to straighten out a couple new plays?”

“Sounds like a plan.” Dean waved him off with a mock salute. He wasn’t surprised that Benny was eager to get started on scheming and training again. There was a good reason the two were made co-captains. 

It took Dean only two tries to make it to the correct room, and he plopped down in a random seat towards the back, relieved that he was early enough to have his pick. 

The classes he had to take for his program were either heavy mathematical things about calculating blood splatter angles and identifying bullet types from wound characteristics, or heavy science things about chemicals and the human body. 

With forensics, you never knew quite what you would encounter, so you had to know a bit of everything. 

It was for this reason alone that Dean chose to take a classic literature course. He figured he would need something completely different from the usual _memorize and absorb_ format of his required courses. 

He was lost in thought, wondering how this course would go and opening a blank document on his computer, when a dark haired boy sat in the seat next to him, huffing and out of breath. 

Dean looked over, amused, and noticed first that the class had mostly filled up, and second that the boy was unnaturally gorgeous. He was trying to catch his breath and pull a notebook out of his shoulder bag at the same time. 

By the time he had settled, notebook and pencil on the desk, Dean had already been staring for far too long. He had been mesmerized by the boy’s strong jawline, and impossibly dark mop of hair, but now he was fixated on his shoes. 

One was an electric blue, the other was purple. 

The boy cleared his throat and Dean’s eyes snapped up, instantly widening as he caught sight of the darkest blue eyes he had ever seen.

“Cool shoes.” Dean blurted. The room felt warmer than it had minutes ago.

The boy looked down, as if he had forgotten what he was wearing. The simple action made something in Dean’s chest squirm. 

“Thank you. I made them.” The boy smiled shyly, then turned to the front of the room just as the professor entered and began her introductory drawl. 

_Made them? Who on earth knows how to make shoes…_ Dean thought with wonder. He wanted to know more about this boy with the dazzling eyes and mismatched shoes, but the prof was moving ahead, already outlining the books they would be going over this term, and Dean dutifully zoned into the lesson. 

Two hours later, Dean shook his hands and flexed his cramped fingers before saving the four pages of notes he had typed. He wanted to talk to the mystery shoe boy and at least learn his name, but by the time he turned to say something the seat beside him was empty. 

Dean huffed, annoyed that he would have unanswered questions for at least a few more days when the class met again. He slung his bag over his shoulder and slowly started making his way to his advanced chemistry class. 

All the way there he found himself looking at people’s shoes, searching for a mismatched pair.


	2. Unwavering Friendship

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Benny comes over to hang out. Dean has a nightmare.

It was nearing 7 when Dean stepped out of the shower for the second time that day. His classes had passed in a blur of syllabus reviews and introductory lessons, followed by a shift of teaching a weightlifting at the gym. 

He had just finished stirring the cheese packet into a pot of boiled Kraft dinner when there was a short knock and the door. 

“It’s open,” Dean called out as he flicked off the stovetop and pulled two bowls out of the cupboard. Benny entered, carrying a case of beer, condensation soaking into the cardboard, and a small duffle bag. 

“Benny man! You sure know your way into my heart,” he joked, dividing the macaroni into the bowls. 

“Ah, you went gourmet tonight,” Benny said with a hint of sarcasm as he set all but two of the beers in the fridge. He tossed the duffel onto the couch and sat down heavily at what passed for Dean’s kitchen table. It barely fit the two boys. 

“Shut up Ben. I’m trying to not eat crap all the time, macaroni is better than ordering pizza. This is homemade” Dean shot back, setting the two bowls onto the table and making a showy gesture of snatching one of the beers. 

Benny snorted out a laugh. “Sure brother. If homemade comes from a box.”

Dean glared at him, but there was no heat behind the look. He had very much missed his friend’s annoying banter all summer. 

“How was your first day?” Dean asked though a mouthful of pasta. 

“We hit the ground running. I’ve got so many assignments my head is spinning.”

Dean nodded in understanding. It was a long time habit of theirs to get together on the first night of each semester to add assignments and test days into their respective schedules. With university and soccer practice combined, it was important to stay on top of deadlines. 

“How’s Cole doing?”

“Good. Itching to get back out on the field. He asked about you actually, I would have let him tag along tonight but he already had plans to go out. Crazy party animal.”

Dean grinned and took a drink from his beer. “Yeah nobody throws a party quite like Cole can. Tryouts are tomorrow though, he should survive until then.”

“Speaking of, I should send out a text to all the boys and remind them to show up. We don’t need Mills on anyone’s tail about attendance before the season even starts.” Benny set his fork into his now empty bowl and fished his phone out of the pocket of his jeans to send the message right away. 

Dean collected the dishes and placed them in the sink with some water. He knew it was a bad habit to let the dishes pile up but he really hated doing them.

“You wanna get the scheduling out of the way?” Benny suggested.

“Yeah may as well,” Dean grumbled. He slipped into his room for his laptop and plopped down onto the couch beside Benny, who already had his laptop out and way too many tabs open. 

The boys fell into a comfortable silence, interrupted only by the occasional grumble about some hard ass professor. Two hours later, their schoolwork for the year had been organized somewhat and they had outlined some tentative plays they wanted to try when the new team was finalized. 

Benny flipped his laptop lid shut and stood from the couch, joints popping. He snatched one of the pillows Dean was leaning on, which earned him a swat, and stretched out onto the floor with the pillow tucked beneath his head. Dean copied the motion, stretching out the full length of the couch. 

“I can’t believe its our last year.” Dean sighed.

“Time did fly. For me at least. I bet for you it crawled around like it had two broken legs, what with all those science courses you take.”

“Yeah you’re one to talk! Who in their right mind goes to university for math?” 

“You know my plan brother. Teacher’s college after this, then I’ll settle down with Andrea somewhere and teach at a high school.”

Dean shook his head. “You keep mentioning this mysterious Andrea but in all three years I’ve known you, I’ve never once met her. Is she even real?”

“Oh she’s real.” Benny trailed off, staring at nothing in particular and probably lost in thought, remembering his summer at home where he had Andrea close by. 

“What about you Dean? Did anyone finally catch your eye?”

Dean thought immediately of mismatched shoes, piercing blue eyes, and a black mop of hair. The swoop in his chest surprised even him, and it stung slightly to know that he didn’t know the boy’s name and might never see him again. Classes were huge, one person could easily get lost. 

He considered blowing off Benny’s question like he usually did, with something shallow about how he prefers one night stands that he picks up in bars, but curiosity got the better of him. 

“Have you seen a boy walking around campus, kinda artsy looking, one blue shoe one purple shoe?”

Benny propped himself up on one elbow to look Dean in the eye, but Dean was stubbornly staring at the ceiling, refusing to meet his gaze. 

“You mean the Novak kid?”

“Uhh” 

“I think I know who you mean. Soulful eyes, keeps to himself, usually carrying around a camera.”

Dean wasn’t sure about the camera part, but the rest of Benny’s description felt like the right fit. Although who could really tell, there were thousands of students. 

“Might be who I’m thinking of. Castiel Novak. He hung around taking photos of the team during some of our games and I caught him afterwards once. Nice guy to talk to.”

 _Castiel,_ Dean thought, testing the name out in his mind. He hoped he would have the chance to talk to the boy again and get his name straight from the source, but for now this was as good a guess as any. _Castiel._ There was something intriguing about the name. Unique. 

“Alright Dean.” Benny said with a grunt as he got up from the floor. “Get your lazy ass off the couch so I can pull out my bed. Morning class tomorrow.”

Dean gave him an amused look. Benny lived in one of the residence buildings on campus, so it really wasn’t his bed, but he crashed at Dean’s apartment so often he had pretty much claimed it as his own. 

Dean held up an arm and Benny hauled him up with ease. They each pulled off a cushion and Benny yanked the bed out from its fold while Dean grabbed a spare blanket from his closet. 

They bumped around one another in the shoebox apartment while going through their nightly routines. Dean’s mainly consisted of brushing his teeth and changing into sweatpants. 

Once Benny was settled, he let himself drop backwards onto the thin pull out mattress, which squeaked in protest. 

Dean snorted at him from his lean against the doorframe of his bedroom. 

“I will never forgive you if you break my couch.”

“Shut up this thing is so worn down and covered in stains its barely a couch anymore.” Benny shot back.

Dean just shook his head, trying his best to look disappointed but unable to really argue, because Benny was right. 

“Don’t you dare wake me when you leave.” Dean threatened. 

“Oh I wouldn’t dream of it.” Benny grinned, knowing it was an empty threat because Dean would be up and out for a run long before Benny woke. 

Dean shook his head once more and shut his bedroom door before crawling into bed and drifting off to sleep. 

He got a few hours of blissful dreamless sleep until the nightmares gripped him.

_First it was John, red with rage and smashing glass left and right. Cups flew, bottles of beer crashed and foamed, plates whizzed by. He was disfigured by his anger and looked more like a decomposing zombie than a father, limbs green and rotting. Mary held a baby Adam close to her body to shield him and tugged Sam out of the room by the hand. Dean walked towards his father with his hands outstretched, trying to calm him somehow. The next bottle that came swinging down crashed against his hand, slicing open his palm. Blood poured out and this only made John angrier, earning Dean a sharp slap across the cheek. It left a slimy green streak._

_The dream whirled and changed, and if it was possible to be nauseous in your sleep, Dean would have lost his dinner hours ago._

_He gripped the seat of the tiny two wheeled bike and ran by its side as Adam pedalled, balancing mostly on his own. Sam, skinned elbows and knobbly knees ran beside them both, cheering Adam on. From inside the house, Dean could hear Mary begging and screaming and John bellowing out something awful. His gut twisted, torn between keeping his brothers outside, distracted and safe, or going in to save his mother. He looked back, and the house had morphed into something haunted, made of yawning wood holes and torn spider webs. His mother’s skeleton was hanging out the window._

_Dean was snapped into the back of a car, radio playing a song from Kansas obnoxiously loud. Beside him, Adam’s hair was full of dust. His eyes were glassy and his throat was split open, pink meat and red flecks of blood were everywhere. In the front, John and Mary were somehow holding hands despite the truck that had swerved its way into both of their laps. Glass and sharp curls of metal were everywhere, impaling them to their seats like bugs in a shadow box._

_The song played on, some warped voice telling Dean to carry on. Even in the dream he knew this part for sure had to be imagined. He knew he was never in the car that night._

_But the subconscious will do what it wants, and Dean’s absolutely hated him. He reached out to hold Adam’s small nine year old hand when the first beetle came crawling down his brother’s pale skin. The next came out of his throat, then one out of his ear, and then five dropped down from his nose. They came pouring out, crawling back from his mother and father as well and filling the car so tightly there was no air to breathe._

Dean gasped and flung upright in the bed. 

Benny was leaning over him, both hands on his shoulders. He was saying something, but Dean didn’t understand a word. He was drenched in cold sweat, and breathing heavily. The real world seemed fragmented, cut through with these memories twisted and made grotesque. 

Benny pulled him into a crushing hug and held him, saying nothing. Time seemed to stretch on and on and it was a long time before Dean stopped shaking and was able to catch his breath. 

Benny very slowly extricated himself, and his fisted t-shirt slipped out of Dean’s now slack grip. 

“I’m sorry man.” Dean croaked out, surprised suddenly at how rough his voice sounded.

“Shh” Benny replied. There was nothing more to really say. He handed Dean a glass of water that hadn’t been on the nightstand before, and gave Dean’s shoulder a quick squeeze before he left the room. 

Dean forced himself to drink the entire glass before setting the empty cup back down. He dragged his hand over his face, frustrated and knowing full well he wouldn’t be able to fall asleep again. 

One look out the window told him it was almost sunrise anyways, no harm in getting his run in a little early. 

He slid out of bed and into a pair of shorts and a t-shirt. On his way out of the apartment, he paused to look at Benny, who was just a lump under the blankets, either sleeping already or doing a good job pretending. 

It was strangely relieving, having someone there to ground him. He thought with bitterness about all the times he had woken from nightmares alone. There were definitely worse things to endure, worse things he had _already_ endured, but still it was nice to have someone there. 

“Thanks Benny.” Dean whispered as he shut the door. The thank you was for too many things to count, but it was mostly because he knew Benny would never mention it again. He would never ask what he had dreamed of, never push him to open up, never treat him like he was made of paper because he really _wasn’t._

The thank you was for Benny’s unwavering friendship, something that hadn’t changed in the last three years and something that Dean couldn’t ever foresee changing no matter where life led them.


	3. Tryouts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean has time for a phone call with Sam, then the day is filled with the madness of classes and tryouts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Does this just happen to me or do other writers get that thing where their brain decides to switch tenses halfway through and then you have to go back and reword everything...I'm definitely not bitter about it. 
> 
> I hope this chapter makes sense. Idk how soccer works so if I mess anything up let me know. Or even if I didn't mess up say something, I love reading your comments.

By the time Dean got back from his run, the pull out bed had been packed up and Benny had gone to catch his lecture. 

On the kitchen table Dean found a still warm scrambled egg, a couple pieces of bacon, and a sliced cucumber arranged on a plate. The dishes had been washed as well. 

Dean sighed, thinking to remind Benny that he didn’t have to help with cleanup anymore, but he knew it would be a useless argument. The boys had gotten into a habit when they lived together in their first year at uni. Benny would always wash dishes, and Dean would happily and regularly clean everything else if only he never had to touch said dishes. Some habits die hard. 

Dean ate, then showered and changed. He had a couple hours to kill today, since he only had two classes; law, and history of organized crime. He flicked on the coffee machine and checked his watch. It was still early, and with the time zone difference, he knew Sam would be getting ready for school just about now. 

Once the coffee pot was half full, he poured some into a mug and stepped out onto the fire escape with his phone to dial Sam. Two rings later, a bright voice was on the other end.

“Dean!”

“Morning Sammy,” Dean smiled, inhaling the scent of hot coffee. It was always a good day when he got a chance to call home. 

“How are you doing kiddo? Staying out of trouble?”

“Don’t be ridiculous Dean, you know I don’t cause trouble.”

Dean huffed, knowing it was absolutely true. His nerd brother was either helping Bobby around the auto shop, or buried in his books. He had a determination to end up a lawyer like no other kid ever had before him. He could imagine Sam hitting the books even harder now that he was in twelfth grade and universities would be open for applications in a few months. 

“You promised you’d call yesterday, what happened? Did you get caught up in all the cool classes?”

“Dammit Sam, I’m sorry. I totally forgot,” Dean said with a pang of guilt. 

“Yeah yeah,” Sam said dismissively, not truly upset. “How’s soccer going?”

“Tryouts are this afternoon, I’ll let you know how it all goes. How’s senior life treating you?”

“Feels the exact same as junior life except the lockers look smaller.”

Dean let out a short laugh. “Yeah dude its because you probably grew a whole foot since last year ended.”

“You’re not wrong,” Sam agreed. “Listen, I’ve got to get to school. Bobby says hi.”

“Well you tell him hi back. Be safe okay? Both of you.”

“I always am Dean,” Sam said softly. There was a short pause before he hung up, and Dean knew Sam was probably thinking of Adam and their parents, who had also thought they were safe. Nobody can predict an accident, and the thought made his gut clench and his heart ache for Sam. He wasn’t a kid anymore, but Dean still sometimes wanted to scoop him up and shield him from the world. 

He finished his coffee slowly, enjoying the way the light seeped into the sky as the sun climbed higher behind him. 

Before he left for class, he smeared some butter on two slices of bread and tossed on whatever looked good from the fridge; this included some questionable ham, a sad pickle floating alone in its jar, mustard, and a piece of sliced cheese that he didn’t remember buying. He would definitely have to go grocery shopping soon. 

Dean wrapped the sandwich in some foil to eat when he got hungry, and walked dutifully towards his law class. 

Five hours and one lunch break later, Dean was on his way back to the apartment. He would have some time to review the day’s notes and change into his uniform before tryouts. 

The team was mostly set; about half of the guys who were players last year were still attending the university, and the scouts had extended invitations to several talented varsity players. This meant that today, whoever showed up would be competing for the three remaining spots on the team. 

Dean was truly looking forward to the tryouts. All the boys on the team usually showed up to participate, even though they had a guaranteed spot. After the tryouts, it was the team’s tradition to host a beachside campfire for all those who came out to play. 

After twenty minutes of a very genuine attempt at focusing on his schoolwork, Dean shut his laptop. It was clear that he wouldn’t be getting anything done today. 

He tossed his uniform and cleats into his gym bag, along with a clean change of clothes and a towel. After a moment of debate, he shoved in his volleyball as well, thinking that if all the campfire wood was collected by the time he got to the beach, then maybe the boys would be up for a quick game. 

By the time he made his way to the field, coach Mills was already setting up some cones for drills and several of the boys on the team were helping. About 15 that he didn’t recognize were already on the sidelines stretching, paper numbers pinned to their shirts. Dean ducked into the change room to put on his uniform and jogged back out to lend a hand.

“Dean! Over here,” coach Mills waved. 

Dean beamed at her. “Coach Mills! It’s good to see you again.”

She threw an arm over his shoulders in a quick and purposeful embrace before pulling back and scanning him up and down.

“You must have grown again since last season ended. Either that or I’m getting old and shrinking,” she grinned, almost like a challenge.

“Aww coach, it must have been me growing.”

“Suck up. It won’t get you out of any runs today.”

Dean let out a sarcastic sigh as coach Mills blew two sharp notes in her whistle. The boys all jogged to gather around her. Dean caught Cole’s eye in the crowd and waved.

“Listen up. I don’t have time for dawdling today. It’s going to be a good hard tryout and you boys better give it your all because there is no second chance. I’d like you all to meet Benny and Dean. They’re your captains. Benny’s going to lead a warmup and conditioning, then I have a dribbling obstacle course set, then we’ll do a short scrimmage, and we’ll end with an endurance run. Any questions?”

“No coach.” The veteran members chanted as one. 

Dean looked into the small crowd at the fresh faces and smiled as he joined them, looking to Benny as he began running through a series of exercises. 

Forty minutes later, the conditioning portion was finished and the boys were dripping sweat in the afternoon sun. Coach Mills had been walking through the group, taking notes on her clipboard. Dean was very glad to not be on the other end of that scrutinizing gaze. 

Next they all lined up at the beginning of the obstacle course, each holding a freshly pumped soccer ball. Dean went through the course first.

It was exhilarating, moving his feet so fast they were basically a blur. He wove the ball expertly through the cones, completed the back and forth sprints, then did the course again in reverse. 

The next boy in line looked a little bit dazed, mouth hanging slack. He fumbled and tripped over the ball halfway through the course.

“You got this, keep it moving!” Dean called out, clapping a few times for emphasis. The boy made it through without another incident. 

One after another the boys completed the course, some rushing through and knocking down a couple cones in an effort to show their speed. One boy dribbled the ball so effortlessly it looked like he was floating his way through the course. 

Dean gave a warm smile to each player as he joined him on the sidelines. He was keeping a mental tally of their skills, trying to decide who he would try to get on his team for the scrimmage. 

Coach Mills walked towards them slowly, scribbling on her clipboard. 

“Good work so far boys. Dean, Benny, you’ll each captain a scrimmage team,” she said as she pulled out a quarter. 

“Call it in the air,” she instructed, flipping the coin with her thumb.

“Heads,” Benny called out. He was still slightly breathless from the obstacle course. He was leaning forward with his hands on his knees, dragging in greedy breaths of air. 

Coach Mills caught the coin and flipped it onto the back of her other hand. It was heads.

Benny gave Dean a mocking wink, to which he pulled his ugliest face in response. 

“Fifteen,” Benny straightened and called out, and a tall lean boy wove out of the crowd to stand behind him.

“Three,” Dean countered, claiming a shorter guy who was hecking fast. 

It took almost no time for the teams to be split, and there was good mix of new and veteran players on both sides. Dean was sure his team had a fair shot at winning. 

“Alright boys, let’s keep it clean. First team to get a goal wins. Pick a person for kickoff,” coach Mills orders, grabbing a soccer ball and walking to centre. 

Dean turned to look at his team. 

“Who’d like to do it?” Dean asked, the question aimed mostly at the new players. 

They glanced at one another, unsure. 

“I’ll do it,” A shorter asian kid said, stepping forward. 

“Alright, my man” Dean clapped him on the back and the small team jogged to catch up to the coach. They spread out among the field, a whistle blew, and just like that the Asian kid stole the ball and the game began. 

It was pure torture, running in the sweltering summer heat, but the sun had already started to dip lower and the team was actually working well together. Dean was impressed by the number of passes and the speed of some of his chosen players. 

It took maybe twenty minutes of a vicious back and forth, but there was a well timed pass and Gordon, a player who joined last year, had a clear shot at the goal. He gave the ball a well aimed kick and it sunk past the other team’s goalie. 

Dean’s team ran at Gordon, whooping and cheering. 

Benny and his team jogged slowly to the centre as well, in surprisingly high spirits for having just lost. Some satisfyingly good plays had happened, leaving everyone feeling victorious. 

“We’ll cream you next time brother,” Benny promised, clapping a hand over Dean’s sweat soaked shoulder and then wiping it on his shorts in mock disgust. 

Coach Mills blew her whistle for silence. “Good game everyone. Four laps around the field and then you can all hit the showers. Team list will be posted tomorrow on the gymnasium doors.” 

Dean could see some of the boys wilting at the thought of more running, but they all made their way around the field. Some of the players lagged behind, dragging in breaths of air, others somehow still had energy for a well paced run.

Dean noticed a blond and well muscled guy setting a strong pace at the front of the pack.  
He finished his run and joined coach Mills in the shade of the bleachers. They watched the remaining stragglers together as they waited for Benny to finish and join them as well. 

Once everyone was off the field and in the change room, Jody clipped her pen to her board and looked up at the boys.

“What did you think?”

“There was some real potential out there coach,” Benny supplied. Dean nodded in agreement.

“Well, numbers one, five, and nine were invited by scouts, and I was impressed with how they played.”

Dean nodded again. The Asian, a tall sharp featured guy, and if Dean remembered correctly, a round faced serious dude.

“Okay well if you agree, thats Kevin, Inias, and Edgar joining us, as planned.”

Coach Mills turned her clipboard for Dean and Benny to see. On it was a complicated scoring system, organized by player number. Dean scanned to the far right and caught the top three totals. 

Benny hummed. “Yeah number eight was really fast,” he said, referring to the blond guy Dean was watching earlier. 

“I agree. Fourteen and eleven also played well today,” Dean pointed out. “Your scoring system really works wonders coach,” he said, grinning.

“Yeah well, I didn’t spend the last eight years just watching you smelly boys kick a ball around,” coach Mills scrunched her nose.

“Well, that would be Azazel, Richard, and Hester. Any objections or changes?”

Both Dean and Benny shook their heads. 

“Alright then, get out of here. I’ll see you all Thursday for first practice. And I don’t have to remind you that this is confidential until tomorrow when the list comes out.”

“No coach. See you Thursday,” Dean waved as he and Benny began a slow walk to the change rooms. It would still likely be full of guys waiting for their turn in the shower, no point rushing. 

They were halfway there when a red haired wisp of a girl caught up to them, camera around her neck.

“Hey boys! I’m Charlie, new to the school paper. I’m doing a piece on the soccer team, mind if I ask you a few questions?” Her words tumbled out in one breath and Dean had to pause to absorb them before answering. Something about this girl made him want to protect her. She was so tiny and full of hope. 

“Sure thing. You wanna do it now? Or you can join the team at the beach tonight. More people to talk to there. We‘re boring,” he nudged Benny in the ribs, which earned him a shove back. 

Dean had no idea why he was being so helpful to this girl. Usually he tried to finish with reporters as soon as possible. Her face lit up at the invitation and somehow that made it all worth it, even if she would probably pester him with questions later. 

“Yes oh my gosh thank you! I’ll be there. Thank you!” She backed away and started walking back across the field. 

Dean noticed that her camera strap was patterned with alternating lightning bolts and round glasses. A Potterhead then. He liked her a little bit more already. 

“Brother, the boys are going to hate you,” Benny said seriously. 

“What? Most of them are going to bring their girlfriends and a couple friends anyways. Nobody will notice her there.” 

Benny shook his head with a grin that spelled doom, and Dean followed him into the mostly empty change room for a well deserved shower.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feel free to post any prompts you have for this fic. I promise more destiel in the upcoming chapters but if you'd like to see something specific I'm open to ideas.


	4. A new project

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The soccer team hosts a beachside campfire and a new project is introduced in English class.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Unedited for now but I've been messing around with this chapter for way too long and I just need to stop staring at it.

After cold showers, Benny and Dean walked together to the beach and tossed their duffle bags in a pile under a tree. 

Dean scanned the sand.

A fold out table had been set up with boxes of pizza stacked onto it. Coolers of various alcohols were slid neatly underneath. Three separate dug out fire pits were set up, waiting to be lit. Someone had dragged a couple large pieces of driftwood and arranged them around each fire as places to sit. 

There were people milling around, some sitting in camp chairs waiting for the fire lighting, some sitting on towels, some walking and talking in groups. Most had either pizza or beer in hand. 

Further down the beach, a group was already playing a game of volleyball on a pop up court. 

“Hey, Gordon and Henry are playing. Let’s go say hi,” Dean suggested, nodding towards the court. It looked like some of the new team members had also been dragged into the game.

The boys stopped by the pizza table before walking towards the net. Dean stacked two meat lovers slices on top of each other and took a massive bite from both pizzas at once, earning a disgusted look from Benny.

“What? Its faster this way,” he said, barely intelligible through his mouthful of food. 

Benny shook his head and took a silent bite out of his slice. He had mostly given up on training Dean to eat like a human. Mostly. 

They finished the pizza on the sandy sidelines, watching the game. Most of the players had removed their shirts and some of the girls playing had stripped down to their bathing suits. It was just too damn hot for both exercise and clothes. 

“Dean! Are you going to just sit there or are you going to help us out?” Henry called from his sprawl in the sand. He had dived for the ball and missed gloriously.

Dean grinned, brushed the crumbs from his hands, tugged off his t-shirt and tossed it straight at Benny’s face, then joined Henry’s team. 

There was a short shuffling of players as Benny joined the opposing side and some of the players left to go get a cold drink. 

The game was hard and fast; the boys were trying to show off their strength by spiking but were too buzzed to aim anywhere decent. Within a few minutes, nobody knew the score and everyone was covered in a fine layer of sand, but they were all laughing too hard to care. 

Dean tossed the ball high into the air and arched back, preparing to serve, when a mop of black hair in the distance caught his eye. Mystery English class guy! 

It was a split second distraction, but it was enough for the ball to drop, and Dean’s hand swung pathetically though empty air. 

There was a roar of laughter that could only have come from Benny before three of the guys on Dean’s team tackled him into the sand, rubbing their fists in his hair and teasing him loudly. 

Dean pushed out from under the pile of sweaty limbs and scanned the beach for the boy, but he was already gone. 

“Oi! Brother! Eyes on the ball or suffer the consequences,” Benny teased.

“Shut up dude. And stay on your side of the net. You’re in enemy territory,” Dean shot back.

“I was thinking to go for a quick swim now so theres time to dry off before the sun sets.”

The word swim had barely left Benny’s mouth when the players all decided that was an excellent idea. The game was immediately abandoned and the group ran for the water. They splashed at one another while Benny and Dean watched the shrieking mass from the shore. 

“I guess the water is cold then,” Dean stated, eyes daring. 

“Yeah I’m afraid so,” Benny smirked back.

“Race you in!” Dean shouted. He tore off towards the water and didn’t look back, but he barely reached hip depth before Benny slammed into his side and dragged him under. 

They boys surfaced, coughing and sputtering and still trying to wrestle the other under the waves.

“Shit thats cold,” Dean gasped. 

“Oh sorry, should I get you a blanket?” Benny teased before kicking Dean’s legs out from under him and pushing his head into the water again. 

Dean fought his way out and crawled onto Benny’s back. He intended to force him down, but Henry climbed up onto Gordon’s shoulders and the pair waded closer, arms out for balance. 

“I bet you kids would’t last five seconds against this dynamite duo!” Henry called out, flexing his muscles into a ridiculous challenging stance.

“Us kids? Fine gramps. Lets do this.” Benny called back. Dean climbed higher to sit on his shoulders and the pairs pushed at each other, trying to knock the other down. 

In the end, all four boys toppled into the water with one giant splash. 

“Ugh dude. I think the sand has rinsed off now,” Gordon said to nobody in particular once they resurfaced. His teeth were chattering from the cold of the water. 

Benny nodded absently. “Lets go get a beer.”

They waded out and made a pit stop by the abandoned court to grab their shirts before heading over to the fire pits. The sun was starting to set, but someone had already lit two of the fires and a group was huddled close to the wood and was lighting the third. 

Benny and Dean had just sat down on a piece of driftwood when Charlie leaned over from behind them both.

“Hey guys!” She stepped over the log and sat down, sandwiched between them. “Thanks so much for the invite! I got a ton of great interview material.”

“Hey Charlie, I’m glad you could make it.” Dean grinned. He was genuinely happy to see her there and clearly having fun. 

“Can I grab you a drink?” Benny asked, tipping his empty beer upside down sadly.

“Sure that would be great!” 

“Me too Ben,” Dean called to his retreating back.

“That’s nice of him,” Charlie said, watching him walk towards the coolers.

“Yeah well Benny is a nice guy.”

“Are you guys close?”

“Of course. He’s like a brother.” 

Charlie sighed. “I’ve always wanted a brother. Its never any fun to dress up and pretend to take over neighbouring villages when there aren’t any neighbouring villagers.”

Dean quirked an eyebrow up at her.

“Not that I spent all my time playing dress up. I also read a lot of stuff. Which probably doesn’t make me seem any more interesting. I swear I had friends growing up and I —“ 

“Woah Charlie.” Dean chuckled. “Its cool I get it. You remind me of my brother actually, he’s more the book nerd than me.”

Charlie slipped him a relieved smile, probably because he stopped her rant. 

“So what program are you in Dean?”

“Forensics. You?”

“Computer engineering. I really like coding.”

Benny approached the log again, holding out the beers. “You two best friends yet?” 

“Thats adorable brother. You getting jealous?” Dean teased, accepting one.

“Never. You need more friends.” Benny smirked, ducking Dean’s swat. 

The rest of the evening passed at a pleasant laid back pace. The sun slipped slowly beneath the horizon and the fires grew brighter and warmer. Dean got to know Charlie quite well thanks to her tendency to ramble, and he decided he liked the girl.

It was very late into the night when their party of three decided to brave the walk home. Benny and Dean walked with Charlie, whose small but cozy place was closest to the beach, then Dean parted ways with Benny halfway between his apartment and the residence buildings. 

At home, Dean barely made it out of the shower before he crashed into bed and slept deeply and dreamlessly. 

Dean realized he hated his life when his alarm rang the next morning. He went through his routine in a mental fog; run to the beach, shower, coffee on the fire escape, walk to school. 

He was so tired he was barely aware of what he was doing until his feet magically walked him to his English class. He stood in the open doorway and scanned the room, looking for a seat, and his sleepy mood vanished instantly at the sight of a certain someone. 

Dean’s stomach fluttered in excitement. He would finally be able to talk to him. Learn his name. Learn everything about him. 

He felt his heart leap when he noticed the seat beside the mismatched shoe boy was empty. Dean wasted no time walking straight there and plopping himself down.

“Hi. I’m Dean.” He began outright. He wasn’t going to waste any more time, no more risks. 

The boy looked up from the thick book he had been reading, somewhat startled before his face smoothed and he smiled, warm and open.

“Castiel.” 

“We didn’t really get a chance to talk last time.”

“Oh. Yeah I had a meeting right after class, had to run. It’s nice to meet you.”

Dean had so many questions, but he didn’t know how to start asking them. It felt like an impossible task to even start understanding a person so different. And it definitely didn’t help that his piercing gaze was burning straight through Dean. How the heck was he supposed to even think when this totally hot dude was smiling at him. 

Before he could kill any more brain cells with his mind racing so fast, the professor walked to the podium and the soft chatter in the room fell silent. Castiel turned to face the front, pencil poised. 

“Good morning all. I would like to begin today by introducing our final project. As you may have read in the syllabus, you will need to choose a partner. Together, you will select a book from the classics list that was provided to you. The book should be read by both partners and you will collaborate to write opposing essays on any chosen topic.”

A hand shot up in the front row. “Could you give an example of a topic?” 

The professor nodded, “for example, you and your partner may choose to study Shakespeare’s Midsummer Night’s Dream, and write about how trickery is both useful in one essay, and detrimental in the other. I want ten pages from each student. Please email me your partner groups before Monday’s class.”

Dean fidgeted in his seat. A partner project? What a great class. What a perfect opportunity! He glanced over to Castiel and was pleasantly surprised to find he was already looking in his direction. They both nodded in silent agreement. 

The rest of the class trickled by. Dean took notes, but his mind was not into the task, he was far too busy imagining how great it would be to spend time with someone so good looking. 

“So when are you free?” Castiel asked, packing his notebook away slowly.

Dean looked over and was surprised to see that the class had ended and students were filing out. Guess he had gotten more caught up in his daydreaming than he had intended. He needed a cup of coffee. 

“Um, after twelve. I’ve got a justice studies class after this.”

Castiel nodded, “I have one more class today as well. Would you like to come over around 1 and we can look over that book list together?”

“Yeah that sounds great,” Dean agreed eagerly. 

“Good. I’ll text you my address,” Castiel said, handing Dean his phone, which was displaying an empty contact page. 

Dean typed his information in and hit save before handing it back. His fingers brushed against Castiel’s and the feeling sent a zing up his spine. 

“I’ll see you at 1 then,” Dean smiled, trying to sound suave and definitely not at all flustered or overeager. 

Castiel nodded and swung his backpack over one shoulder before walking out, and Dean may or may not have been staring at his mismatched shoes and clinging black jeans as he left.


	5. Something new

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean is awed by Castiel's home, mildly horrified by Gabriel, and completely enamoured by Cas.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Write drunk and edit sober? More like write at 3am and wonder what the heck you were thinking when editing later that afternoon.

Dean’s second class dragged on and on for what seemed like forever. When the professor finally dismissed them, he practically bolted out of the room, pulling out his phone as he went. 

A single text had been sent to him from an unknown number.

Castiel Novak. 144 Abernathy. 

Dean copied the address into his maps, which displayed the optimal route for the twenty minute drive. It was rare that Dean had the chance to take out his beloved Impala, and the need for driving put him in an even better mood, if that was possible. 

He made the short walk home in record time and didn’t even bother going up to the apartment. There wasn’t any food up there anyways and he wouldn’t have time to order anything, so he headed straight down to the parking garage, promising his empty stomach that he would go grocery shopping on his way home. 

“Hey Baby..” Dean practically cooed when he reached the Impala. 

The car sat, dark, gleaming, and ready to go in her spot. If Dean was being honest, it probably wasn’t worth it to pay the monthly fee to rent a parking space for a car he barely got the chance to use, but he couldn’t bear to part with her. The impala had been a gift from his dad; one thing that had always held good memories and hadn’t been tainted by abuse or alcohol or death. 

He slid behind the wheel and allowed himself a second to just breathe the scent of leather before turning on the car with a rumble and beginning the drive. 

The closer Dean got to Castiel’s house, the more the landscape changed. He had driven out of the packed city streets, and the houses were now spaced far apart, with sprawling lawns and old trees grown everywhere. 

Despite still being in his car, Dean suddenly felt underdressed. 

His phone chimed, telling him to take a left turn onto a smooth black paved lane. It took a long thirty seconds of driving before Dean realized he was on Castiel’s driveway. Tall trees were grown like sentinels on either side of the road, and arranged in wild stone enclosures around them were all sorts of plants, dripping with flowers. 

The driveway widened and curved around a large pool filled with those white and orange fish from Chinese restaurants. Dean could probably have spent an entire day admiring the little fountain in the pool and the patterns of the fish, but as it stood he was entirely distracted by the house itself. 

It seemed to be half made up of windows, half made up of large rough white and grey stones. Everywhere he looked, there were black accents; the window sills, the roof, the dark wooden door. 

The trees were large and shady, and plants grew everywhere. They poured out from tall barrels, they lined the porch, they crept up the railings, they exploded out of their colourful pots. 

The sheer size of the house and the sprawling beauty of the property made him feel small, but somehow welcome. 

Dean parked his car at the edge of the driveway and was immediately surrounded by the heavy scent of nature when he stepped out. He swung his backpack onto one shoulder and barely made it to the front porch when the door swung open, revealing a smiling Castiel. 

“Hello Dean.”

“Hey,” Dean answered. Castiel’s hair was damp and he smelled freshly showered, which definitely did not make Dean picture what he may have looked like in said shower. 

“Come in,” Castiel swung the door open and closed it gently after Dean had stepped inside.

Dean had fully intended to make polite small talk, but he fell silent when he saw the interior of the house. 

The walls were not white. 

Well, they were in a technical sense, but they were also covered in frames, which made them really not white. Dean drifted closer to one wall. There were framed music pieces, handwritten recipes, photographs in warped colours of people and landscapes and closeups of indistinguishable objects. There were thicker frames containing paintings so detailed, Dean thought they were also photographs at first. 

Castiel cleared his throat awkwardly, which snapped Dean out of his trance. 

“Yeah uh, my brother Gabriel really likes to frame things,” Castiel explained, running a hand through his hair. 

“Do you live with your parents?” Dean blurted. He immediately bit his tongue, hoping Castiel wouldn’t think he was being invasive or nosy, but he didn’t seem to mind.

“Not anymore. My father left about eighteen years ago, I don’t really remember him. I live with three of my brothers. The other one moved out. I have a sister as well but she moved out too.”

“This place is amazing,” Dean said, mentally noting how Castiel hadn’t said anything about his mother.

Castiel nodded once, a silent agreement that the home was indeed nice. 

“We can study in my room if you’re comfortable.”

Dean shrugged, “I’m good anywhere.” Although the thought of being in Castiel’s room with him made his stomach flutter. Did the invitation to go somewhere so private mean Castiel was interested in him? Dean allowed himself to hope, just a little bit.

Castiel led the way up a curving staircase and turned into a room with a large open window and a neat bed and table. It was much simpler than Dean had been expecting. There was a desk, a guitar propped on a stand in the corner, a modest dresser, and a door which he assumed led to a bathroom. 

Castiel pulled some papers out of his bag on the floor and sat gently down onto the bed. Dean followed suit, trying to keep his heart from thumping too loudly.

“I’ve printed out the book list and gone ahead and highlighted the ones I haven’t read yet. I’ve also circled some options I felt may be interesting to study.” He handed Dean the stapled pages, and Dean flipped through them slowly. There were probably ten highlights in total and several titles were circled. 

“So I take it you like to read a lot huh?” 

“I do enjoy reading, yes,” Castiel answered evenly.

Dean flipped through the package again. “Look man, I’ll be honest with you. I haven’t even heard of most of these. I swear I’ll do my part for the actual project but I’m lost when it comes to picking a book. You just choose whatever you like and we’ll do it. As long as it isn’t a chick flick.”

Castiel barely held back his smile. “Dean I believe the term chick flick applies to a film and not a book.” 

“Whatever. You know what I mean,” Dean scoffed. 

“How about Pride and Prejudice?” Castiel suggested. “I’ve read it before and its actually quite good. Its about the love story between a woman who knows what she wants and a man who is quite prideful to the point or hurting her.”

“Cas man, that sounds like a chick flick book. Is there anything else in here you like?”

Castiel gently took the package back and flipped the page. “The Great Gatsby? This one is about a very rich man and the hollowness of the American dream.”

“Its not all mushy with love scenes and heart to heart talks?”

“No Dean. Its not,” Castiel promised. 

“Okay then. Great Gatsby it is.”

Cas smiled and crossed the room to sit at his desk. He opened his laptop and sent the professor an email with both their names and the book they chose to study.

“We have a while to get this project done, but I’d like to not leave it until the last minute. Are you able to meet once a week to discuss what we read and start compiling points for our essays?”

Dean shrugged, “I’ll have to coordinate with soccer games and practices but Wednesdays after class I’m generally free if you’d like to work on this. We can meet at my place sometimes too. I don’t want to bug your brothers if we’re here all the time.”

“Oh I wouldn’t worry about it, they kind of have their own spaces.”

“You mean they’re gone at work?” Dean asked curiously.

“Well not always. Michael is a pianist so unless he’s travelling or in concert, he’s usually in the music room composing. Raphael is pretty much always upstairs painting. Gabriel comes and goes from the cafe. Or he’s cooking up who knows what in the kitchen.”

“That sounds like a very busy family. And an artsy one,” Dean noted. It was interesting to hear about a life so different from his. Back home, Bobby worked in the garage. If Dean was home he helped out, and if Sam was done his studying he pitched in as well, but besides getting all greased with oil and taking the occasional beer breaks, nothing interesting really happened. 

“Yeah, I guess it is, but we all mostly do our own thing. I have very few memories of my father but one thing I do remember is that he always required us to do one creative thing each day. He didn’t really care what it was.”

Dean hummed, trying to picture a home where art was valued, and people felt safe and comfortable enough to create something. He pushed down a rising bitter feeling. Dean knew it wasn’t Castiel’s fault that he had had such a crappy childhood in comparison, but Dean had no problem admitting to himself that he was a bit jealous. 

In the silence, Dean’s stomach made an obnoxiously loud rumbling noise.

Cas let out a short laugh. “I suck at hosting. You must be starving. Lets go down to the kitchen and see if anything in there is safe to eat.” He tucked his chair under the desk and held out a hand to haul Dean up from the bed. Dean let his hand be taken, and something inside him melted from the warmth and strength of Castiel’s hand. 

Right in that moment, the door to Castiel’s room burst open. A shorter man with dark blonde hair and flour dusted on his shirt froze at the door. 

“Woah! Sorry, I didn’t realize I’d be interrupting something!” He said, sounding more amused than apologetic.

“I’m Gabriel,” he said, extending a hand.

Dean realized he was still somehow holding hands with Castiel, and he extricated his hand and shook Gabriel’s before pulling it back and sticking it in his pocket.

“Dean.”

“Nice to see Cassie’s finally found himself a boy toy.”

“Gabriel! Dean is not my—“

“I’m just messing with you little brother. No need to get your panties in a twist.”

Castiel put a hand to his forehead, trying to hide the blush creeping up his cheeks.

“Is that your car outside Dean? Its one hecking sweet ride.”

“Yeah, its mine,” Dean admitted. He was unsure of how he felt about Gabriel. The man seemed to be unpredictable.

“So are you kids hungry? I’m making sandwiches. New recipe. I’ve been experimenting with bagels and pineapple.”

Castiel stared at his brother with an incredulous look. 

“That sounds…interesting” Dean said, trying to remain neutral. In truth it sounded disgusting, but he was too hungry to complain.

“Got it. Two sandwiches coming right up.” Gabriel gave them both a thumbs up. “You may resume holding hands,” he said, ducking out of the room and shutting the door.

Dean barely felt the blush start on his cheeks when the door opened about a foot and Gabriel’s head popped back in.

“Hey Deano I forgot to ask, are you a top or a bottom?”

Dean let out a startled cough and felt his face go several shades darker. 

“W-“ he coughed again. “What?”

Gabriel smirked. “…of the bagel. Do you prefer the top or the bottom.” He clarified, eyebrows rising like it was an obvious question.

“Um. It doesn’t matter.” Dean said quickly. 

Gabriel smirked again and his floating head disappeared into the hallway.

“Your brother is really something,” Dean said after an awkwardly silent couple of seconds. 

Castiel looked at him apologetically. “I promise he is the craziest one and the rest of us are normal.”

Dean laughed. “Don’t worry about it man. I can handle crazy.” 

“Would you still like to go outside while we wait? I’d take you to the kitchen but who knows what he would get you to taste if I bring you there now.”

“Sure man, anything is good.”

Castiel led the way back downstairs. They passed a closed door where intricate piano trills were floating out, then exited through the back of the house. Once outside, Castiel closed his eyes and inhaled deeply. 

Dean watched the sun on his face, admiring the way his eyelashes made pointed shadows on his cheekbones. He wondered what it would feel like to kiss along that jaw…

Dean tore his eyes away before he could be caught staring, but Castiel didn’t seem to have noticed, because this face lit up with sudden excitement.

“Would you like to see my bees?”

“Your what?”

“I have a couple beehives.” He walked down a small path through a thick bush of flowers that opened up to reveal more flowers. In the midst, set on stilts, were four painted wood boxes. Bees were happily trailing to and from the flowers. Some landed on Castiel before continuing on their way. 

Castiel looked back at Dean and grinned. 

“You are insane,” Dean informed him. He was trying his hardest to stay still and not tear out of there like he was being chased. Which may have been the case if he had decided to run because he was surrounded by BEES. 

“They are lovely creatures Dean. And they make honey,” Castiel explained, as if honey atoned for everything else the bee was capable of.

“Dude you’re going to get stung.”

Castiel rolled his eyes. “They know me by —“ He closed his mouth when a bee landed on the corner of his lip, then flew away. 

Dean just shook his head, smiling. How was it even possible for there to exist such an enchanting human being on such a scarred earth? 

“What are you even doing in school man, you have so many things you could get into,” Dean asked, eyes scanning the hives which upon closer inspection, had little flowers carved into them. 

“I’m in for art, majoring in photography. This is just a hobby.”

“Photography huh? Were those pictures on the wall yours?”

“Yes most of them. I enjoy making broken things look beautiful and exposing the cracks in what appears to be perfection.” 

“Cas, I’m not even going to pretend to have understood that.”

Castiel shot him a small smile. “What are you studying Dean?” He asked, tipping a bee that had landed on his finger into the cup of a flower.

“Forensics. One day I’m going to solve crimes and catch the bad guys.” He had meant to be funny, but Cas nodded thoughtfully. 

“I think you would be good at that.” 

The honest admission surprised Dean. Five years ago, he never would have pictured himself leaving the mechanic shop, now here he was with a practical stranger telling him he believed in his dream. 

He wanted to say something clever, to thank Castiel in some poetic way, but he was saved by the appearance of Gabriel, carrying a tray of complicated looking sandwiches.

“You bitches hid from me!” He complained, setting the tray down on a stone bench and looking wounded. 

“Castiel wanted to show me his bees.”

“Ouu kinky,” Gabriel winked. Castiel elbowed him hard in the ribs. 

“Oi! The saying is kiss the cook not harass the cook!” He handed Dean a sandwich half wrapped in wax paper. It was indeed a bagel with what looked like shredded chicken and some thinly sliced pineapple inside. There were unidentifiable sauces and other toppings, but Dean decided to take a bite before he overthought it. 

Dean barely held back a moan as the flavours exploded in his mouth. 

“Good huh? I’m not a profession chef for nothing baby” Gabriel bragged, taking a bite out of his own sandwich. 

“Shut up Gabriel, you own a cafe, not half the culinary world” Castiel informed him. 

“I’m getting there don’t worry. Anyways I’ve gotta run, got a pie in the oven,” He said as he grabbed the empty tray and started a leisurely strut back towards the house. 

“Pie?”

Castiel sighed. “Gabriel eats enough sugar to give five people diabetes.” 

Dean smirked around a mouthful of food. “Me too.”

Cas shook his head and sat down on the bench to finish his sandwich. 

“So what does the rest of your family do Cas? You said four brothers and a sister? What about your mom?”

Castiel eyed Dean curiously. “My mother died giving birth to me. I haven’t seen Lucifer in a couple years. He’s doing real estate somewhere along the other coastline. Anna lives with her daughter Hazel about ten minutes from here. She sells pottery.”

Dean finished his sandwich in silence.

“What about you? Any siblings?”

“Yeah actually. I had two brothers. Have? One of them, Sam, is finishing high school this year. Adam was killed in a car crash with both my parents five years ago.”

“Dean I’m sorry” Cas said, sounding truly horrified.

“Its fine Cas. I deal. Sam and I were adopted by Bobby, my dad’s friend. He pretty much raised us anyways since my dad was a pretty crappy dad. Its actually kind of his fault I’m here. When I got offered a scholarship for soccer he wouldn’t even hear of me not accepting it.”

“I am glad you have someone like that in your life”

“Yeah Bobby’s a good guy.” Dean looked up at the sky and noticed the sun was beginning to sink lower.

“Anyways Cas, I’ve gotta get going. I have a shift at the gym in a bit.” 

Castiel nodded and crumpled his wax paper into a ball, holding out his hand for Dean’s paper too. The boys walked briefly back up to Castiel’s room to get Dean’s bag, then back out front to the Impala. 

“See you in class Monday?” Castiel asked

Dean hesitated. Monday seemed so far away. He felt like a teenager again, getting nervous before asking a girl out. 

“What if you come see the game on Saturday? Its the first of the season,” Dean offered. 

Castiel’s face lit up. “I’d love that.”

“Cool,” Dean smiled. “See you then.” He shut the door and drove slowly back down the driveway and towards his apartment. He stopped for groceries, then completed his shift with a lightness in his chest that he hadn’t felt in a while.


	6. Worth the pain

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Super brief edit and super late chapter but in my defence, service spots in the mountains are few and far between.

There was an atmosphere of excitement in the change room, all the players were pumped and ready to go for their first game of the season. Home games were always wild; students came out decked head to toe in navy and white, waving giant foam fingers and sporting huge mugs of beer. The noise from the stadium could be heard as a low rumble in the change room.

Dean put on another layer of deodorant and then tugged on his shirt; the number 41 gleamed white on his back. Dean thought of Cas, probably, maybe, hopefully somewhere in the stands, waiting to watch the game. His stomach did a little flip at the possibility of seeing him again today, perhaps even inviting him to the afterparty? But no, for now, he needed to stay focused on the game ahead. 

He looked around the room at the boys roughhousing and talking loudly over one another. 

Cole must have said something cheeky because Benny leapt onto him, rubbing his hair with his fist and making it point in all directions. Kevin and Inas were sitting on the bench, doing their best to stay out of the way. Henry was taking a long drink from his bottle. Edgar had his right foot propped up on a chair and was stretching. Azazel was hopping on one foot trying to slip on his second cleat while avoiding Richard who was flicking water at him from the sink. Gordon was bouncing a ball on his head and loudly counting how many hits he got in a row until Hester threw a running shoe at him, knocking the ball from the air. 

“Alright gather round,” Dean’s voice boomed over the noise. The team fell silent just in time to hear a loud pounding knock on the door. 

“Everyone better be decent, I’m coming in,” Coach Mills warned. She waited a couple seconds before entering the change room. In her presence, the boys seemed to straighten out and came together in a rough huddle. 

“We have worked our assess off this past week. This team works together better than any team I have ever coached. You are one mind. On that field, you gotta be aware of one another at all times. I know you can do it because thats exactly how you have played during practice. No doubts about this one guys, we are going to crush them. We will start this season strong and finish it even stronger. Lets get out there and show them what we’re made of. Make me proud guys!” Mills finished her speech with a triumphant smack on the nearest shoulder. 

“And not to scare anyone but Mills is kind of a hard ass when we lose and doubles our conditioning time so don’t you dare let it happen,” Benny chirped in from the back. He ignored Mills’ flat glare and let out an animal like yell. The boys joined in, voices bouncing off the walls and making the volume in the change room deafening for a moment. 

Dean hopped a couple times and shook out his shoulders to loosen up, then began the jog out of the room. The team followed in a tight line as he led them under the stadium lights and in a jog around the field. It was exhilarating, having hundreds of voices shouting and cheering. In the middle of the green space, the cheer team was waving their pom poms and doing some complicated looking flips.

Coach Mills nodded from the sidelines and the boys took up their positions. 

The opposing team looked menacing dressed entirely in bright red, and they won the first kickoff, but the game pretty much went downhill for them from there. Gordon stole the ball and weaved it between another players legs, passed it to Kevin, who kicked it hard across the field to Azazel, who sunk it straight into the net.   
By halftime, the opposing team hadn’t managed to score back the point. Dean jogged to the sidelines and drank greedily from his water bottle, breathing hard. He looked up into the crowd, trying to find Castiel among the unfamiliar faces, but it was impossible, there were just too many people. 

The second half began with Hester sending the ball sailing straight for Dean. He caught it with the side of his foot and ran with it towards the goalposts. He searched the field for openings, mapping where his team was and where his opponents were and which play he could use. He saw the perfect opportunity and prepared to kick the ball to Richard, when a blur of red slammed into him from the side. 

Dean crashed to the ground and rolled in a tumble of arms and legs and grass and open sky. He stopped on his back and laid there for a split second, breath knocked completely out of him. Coach Mills appeared as a floating head on a background of fluffy clouds. She was yelling something but no sound was coming out. A referee appeared over him, a whistle blew from somewhere off to the side. 

When Dean was finally able to inhale a gasping breath, he pushed himself up off the grass and sat up. 

“Dean are you okay?” Coach Mills asked in a mildly frantic voice. Her hand on his arm was a fraction too tight. 

Once the world stopped spinning and he had his breath back properly, Dean nodded, then stood properly and shook everything out. He didn’t actually feel like he was hurt that bad, sure he would probably be sore later, but for now he was mostly just annoyed at the player who had slammed into him. 

Dean got some satisfaction in watching the yelling match between the player and the referee, who pulled out a red flag and smirked as he watched the player storm off the field. 

“Do you want a sub?” Mills asked in a concerned voice.

“No Coach, I’m good to go.”

Coach Mills nodded. She trusted by now that Dean would know his body and be honest about his injuries.

“Free kick,” the referee said shortly, dropping the ball in front of Dean. He lined himself up, considering where he wanted to aim, then took a couple steps back and ran forward, faking a lower right aim and then kicking the ball hard. It sailed up over the players dotting the field, past the outstretched arms of the goalie, and sunk deep into the top left corner of the net. 

A cheer went up from the stands, and Dean felt childishly triumphant. He wanted to turn around and stick his tongue out at the player who had gotten pulled off the field, but he held back, not wanting to risk getting flagged, or worse, giving his team any ideas about bad sportsmanship. 

The rest of the game passed mostly in a blur. There were some good passes Dean would congratulate the team for later, but no other goals were made and all the players were abnormally well behaved. The opposing team had significantly less energy after their player had been sent off, either they were wary of the same fate or just wanted the game over with. 

Once the timer ran out, the cheerleaders exploded back onto the field with a fresh chant. Dean lined up with his team to shake hands with the opposition, who would go home tonight defeated. He was exhilarated, buzzing after the win. 

The players chattered excitedly back in the change room, everyone was feeling the post game high. Ten minutes later, freshly showered and dressed in casual clothes, they gathered by the lockers.

“Great game tonight guys,” Benny congratulated. “Good energy, great passes, good win overall.”

Dean nodded in agreement because there wasn’t a much better way to put it other than short and concise.

“See you all at the res?” Cole asked cheekily. “No better way to celebrate a win than with a killer party.”

The team broke out into conversations of agreement and planning rides. Benny drifted over to where Dean was leaning against the cool metal of a locker.

“Doing okay there brother? You took quite a tumble.”

“Aww shut up man. I’m fine,” Dean rolled his eyes.

Benny gave him a pointed look.

‘No seriously. It must have looked worse than it was because I feel totally fine. Sore as heck from running for the past two hours but thats it.”

“If something changes you’ll let me know?” 

“Yeah of course. You know, if I start craving an epsom salt bubble bath to relax I’ll let you know about that too.” Dean said sarcastically. 

Benny laughed. 

“Brother if you do start craving that make sure you do tell me so I can stay far away from you and your madness.”

Dean laughed and pushed himself up off the locker, swinging his duffle bag onto his shoulder.

“Lets get to Cole’s place. I want a beer before they’re all gone.”

“Sure Dean, although knowing Cole they’ll have gathered enough beer for several parties.”

Dean grinned, knowing Benny was absolutely correct. On his walk across the field, he looked through the stands again, but Castiel was nowhere to be seen. Dean felt a slight pang at having missed him, he would have liked to at least say hi. He briefly considered texting him to ask if he had made it to the game but he quickly dismissed the idea on the grounds of sounding desperate. 

Dean and Benny walked together in comfortable silence in the cooling sunset air. By the time they got to the residence buildings, the party was well under way. Music was thumping through large loud speakers, and bodies were pressed together on a makeshift dance floor in the corner of the common room. Beer pong had been set up on the kitchen table and a group was crowded around it, cheering someone on. 

Benny dumped both their duffle bags in the pile by the door, then slipped away, probably to find himself some alcohol. Someone handed Dean an unopened beer bottle, and he nodded thanks before twisting the cap off.

Dean drank his beer slowly, leaning on the armrest of a couch and scanning the crowd. Usually he would be looking for a hookup, some pretty girl or the occasional guy who happened to also be looking for a hookup. Tonight though, ten minutes passed, then twenty, and nobody looked even remotely intriguing. A petite brunette in a loose green dress flirtatiously grabbed his hand and asked him to come dance, but Dean gave her a polite smile and refused. 

If Dean was being honest, he was kind of bummed that he hadn’t bumped into Cas. He had really been looking forward to seeing those deep blue eyes.

In the spirit of team camaraderie, Dean eventually allowed himself to be looped into a couple shots with some of the guys, but two hours into the party, he decided he had had enough. 

He finished his current beer and let the bottle drop into a garbage bag someone had hooked over a doorknob. Someone pressed close behind him, dancing drunkenly. Dean turned with a tight smile and slipped away, making his way outside through the suffocating press of bodies. 

He stopped to dig out his bag from the growing pile, but once he reached the cool night air, he breathed a sigh of relief. He pulled his phone out of his back pocket and sent a text to Benny telling him he went home. Benny replied almost immediately asking Dean if he felt okay and if he wanted some company back, but Dean assured him he felt fine, just wasn’t into the party mood tonight. 

Dean hesitated on the sidewalk with his phone in hand, then decided to hell with it and sent a short text to Cas as well.

_Hey_

He slid his phone back in his pocket and began the short walk home. It was properly dark outside; the stars were hidden beneath a weak layer of clouds and the city’s substantial light pollution. 

As Dean reached the dingy lobby of his building, his phone let out a soft chime

_Hello Dean_

The formality made Dean’s heart leap. He checked the time. 9:14. Was it too late to invite Cas over? Probably not. But would he come just to hang out? 

_I didn’t catch you at the game._ Dean sent, wildly hoping that Cas hadn’t skipped out on it entirely. 

The reply came almost immediately. _You’re a hard man to get ahold of. I was there._

Dean smiled to himself, brainlessly walking up the three flights of stairs to his apartment and typing out a response. 

_Wanna come over? I have the first season of Game of Thrones and popcorn._

His heart clenched, steeling itself for a refusal but also hoping that Cas would accept. 

_That sounds great. Address?_ Cas replied. Dean let out a breath he didn’t realize he had been holding and sent Cas his address, then unlocked his door with a click. 

_See you soon._

Dean looked around his apartment, suddenly nervous. It was clean, mostly because he didn’t have many things to make it look messy. He briefly wondered if he should light a candle, but quickly dismissed the idea, mainly because he didn’t have a candle to light but also because this wasn’t a date. This was two guys hanging out and maybe getting to know one another better because they would be working together all semester on a very large project. 

He ended up microwaving a bag of popcorn, tipping it into a bowl, and setting it on his low coffee table along with two beers. As an afterthought he opened a package of black liquorice and set that down too. No movie night was complete without black liquorice. 

Dean had just pushed the DVD into the player when there was a tentative knock at his door. He got up, knees cracking obnoxiously loud, and answered it. 

Cas stood in the hall, hands shoved deep into the pockets of his dark blue jeans. He was wearing a white dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up and the collar pulled loose. 

“Ah. I see you not only attended the game, you also dressed up for the occasion,” Dean teased, stepping aside to let Cas enter.

“I was not sure what proper game attire was. Michael informed me that it is important to show school spirit and dress according to the school colours.”

Dean smiled and bit his bottom lip, probably to stop himself from drooling over Cas, who looked..hot. Kissable. But that was just the alcohol talking. Definitely just the alcohol. 

“I’ve got the first episode ready to go. Have you seen any of them?” Dean asked, leading Cas to the pull out bed, which was currently in its couch form.

“No, but I have heard mixed reviews.” Cas stated, accepting a beer. 

Dean hit play and intended to casually plop back onto the couch, but his knees cracked again on his way down and Dean let out an involuntarily sharp exhale. He would have been lying if he had said he wasn’t sore as heck from the game today. 

Cas looked over sympathetically. 

“That was quite a hit you took earlier.”

“Ah. It happens. The guy was a jerk.”

“You’re lucky you didn’t break anything Dean.” 

Dean nodded in agreement and took a sip of beer, unsure what to say. The show opened with a snowy scene in the woods, and the sound of horse hooves filled the silence. 

“I could give you a massage.” Cas said abruptly.

Dean looked at him with an eyebrow raised, trying desperately to look cool despite his erratically thumping heart. Cas was offering to…touch him? Knead the tension out of his body? Rip off his clothes and close the space between them? Dean was eager for any of the above, but still he hesitated. 

“You want to give me a massage?”

“If you want. I’m very good at them. And you look tense. And sore. From the game probably.”

Dean let out a short nervous laugh. “I mean, sure. If you really want to.” 

Castiel smiled such a bright smile that it was like a miniature sunrise on his face. In that moment Dean vowed to do everything in his power to see that smile more often. 

Castiel gently guided Dean onto his stomach on the sofa, then crawled to the floor and kneeled beside him, the show and snacks all but forgotten. Two warm hands pressed down on Dean’s shoulder with a delicious pressure, and Dean bit back a groan. Cas was meticulous, working out every knot, and slowly, very slowly, Dean began to relax into his grip.

Castiel worked his way down, and once he ran out of back, he picked up an arm, pulling the tension first out of the bicep area, then working on the forearm, then the hand and each individual finger. He gave Dean a nudge, prompting him to turn over onto his back so he could reach his other arm. 

Once he finished with the upper body, Dean moved to sit up, but was pushed back down into the cushions. He looked at Cas curiously, wondering why he had to keep lying down if the massage was over, but Cas was in his own zone, totally focused. He pushed the heel of his hand into Dean’s hip and dragged it down towards his knee in a pleasantly painful motion that made Dean’s thigh muscles very aware of all their knots. 

Cas spent what felt like a blissful eternity working the tension out, and when he finally sat back and let his hands drop into his lap, Dean felt like an overcooked noodle, completely unwilling to move ever again. 

“Dude you’re magical.” Dean slurred, not caring in the slightest that he sounded drugged. He felt drugged.

Castiel smirked. “I told you I was good. Do you feel better?”

“Cas I don’t think I’ll be sore ever again after that,” Dean chuckled. He glanced towards the TV, which had been displaying the Game of Thrones logo for who knows how long. Castiel followed his gaze.

“So it looks like we may have to repeat this movie night at some point”

Dean grinned. “Yeah no kidding. Next time keep your hands off me and maybe we’ll be able to pay attention properly,” he joked. Castiel laughed and stood, pulling his phone out of his pocket to check the time. 

“I should get going,” he said, sounding almost apologetic. 

“Do you want to crash here?” Dean asked, proud of how casual he sounded. If he didn’t know better he would say Cas might have blushed slightly at that.

“No Dean, I really should be getting home.”

“Alright, if you’re sure.” Dean stood from his sprawl on the sofa and walked Cas to the door.

“See you Monday in class?” 

“Bright and early,” Dean answered. Cas smiled and gave him a curt wave, pulling the door closed behind him. 

Only once he was alone did the events of the evening really sink in. Cas really truly just had his hands all over him. Sure, it probably didn’t mean the same thing to Cas and he probably just did it out of a totally platonic desire to help out an incredibly sore friend, but in that moment the intention mattered very little to Dean. 

He went to bed feeling like he was floating through space.


	7. Unearthly Beauty

Dean woke Sunday morning several minutes before his alarm. It took a few seconds to register the gentle patter of rain hitting his window. He sighed and stretched his arms over his head before settling back into his warm cocoon of blankets. 

Normally, a run to the beach, followed by a shower and then breakfast and coffee on the fire escape was his morning routine. Dean stuck to this routine every day, except when the skies decided to open up and let it pour. 

It was oddly comforting, being warm in bed while the air in his room was on the cooler side. After a few minutes, Dean fumbled for his phone, which happily lit up to display two missed calls from Sam last night. The poor kid had probably called to check how the first game of the season went, and Dean was such a crappy brother that he couldn’t even be bothered to answer a phone call. 

He rubbed his face in frustration and swung out of bed, promising himself that he would call Sam back after he showered and had some coffee. It was too early to wake him up anyways. 

In the shower, Dean stood under the hot pounding water and mapped out his day. He had a long shift at the auto shop, but he figured if he was productive he might be able to get out early enough to have the evening off. Maybe he would give Benny a call and see if they could round up the team for drinks at a bar. 

Dean towelled off, then wrapped himself up in his bathrobe. If asked, Dean would deny ownership of the fluffy blue thing to the death, but it was a Christmas present from Sam and if it made him feel warm and nostalgic then there wasn’t anyone around to blame him. 

He carefully measured out the coffee for a pot, then let the machine do its thing while he ventured back into the bedroom for his phone. 

7:23

Sam would probably be up studying by now, but Dean sent a quick _good morning_ instead of calling just in case. Sam called him immediately.

“Good morning Dean” Sam greeted happily. Just hearing his voice already made Dean feel more at peace.

“Hey Sammy, how are you doing?”

“Great actually. I got up early to finish studying for calculus. I ended up with this super strict teacher and I’d really like to do well,” Sam explained. Dean made a sarcastic noise. Only Sam could manage to sound so pleased about having a strict teacher. 

“How was the game? I tried calling yesterday.”

“Yeah I’m sorry I didn’t catch you. It was good, we won. Party after, the usual.” Dean didn’t mention Cas or the evening they had spent together. It was just too new and fresh, whatever it was. Heck, he didn’t even know if Cas liked guys. Maybe he was just friendly. Dean decided to subtly find out next time he saw him. 

“Thats the second time you forgot to call Dean. Three strikes and you’re out you know,” Sam said, sounding like he was trying to hold back a teasing laugh. 

Dean huffed. “Out of what? Are you gonna dis-brother me?”

Sam’s muffled laugh came with the sound of pages flipping. Dean rolled his eyes before he realized Sam couldn’t see his reaction. 

“Sammy dude, you better not be studying while talking to me.” 

“Sorry sorry I’m listening I promise.”

“Ahhh and here you are all high and mighty trying to make me feel guilty. We gotta find you a girlfriend man, you’re way too absorbed in your fancy textbooks,” Dean teased.

“Actually…I’m sort of seeing someone,” Sam admitted shyly.

Dean froze, not quite sure how to react. He definitely hadn’t seen that coming. Sam’s silence hung from the other end.

“Dude you can’t just say that and not explain. Tell me about her. Is she hot?”

“Dean!” Sam admonished, sounding scandalized. “Her name is Ruby. She goes to the community college here and she’s studying to become a makeup artist. I met her on my walk home from school one day. And she is beautiful.”

“Wow. Thanks for the backstory, I was really just wondering if she was hot,” Dean said sassily. In truth, he was glad to know a bit about this mystery girlfriend. Sam was more sensitive than he would ever admit, and Dean wished a life of minimal heartbreak for him. 

“I’ll have to meet her when I come home for Christmas. In the meantime, make sure you glove up.”

“Dude, enough.” Sam said, mortified. Dean snickered, picturing his brother, who had likely thunked his head onto his desk by now. 

“I’ll let you get back to studying Sammy. I’m serious though, I’m totally not ready to be an uncle yet.”

“Bye Dean” Sam said forcefully before hanging up.

Dean filled a mug with coffee and blew over its surface on his way back to his bedroom. He quickly changed into work clothes, then drained the mug and rinsed it. On his way out the door, he grabbed his phone, wallet, and keys, then locked the apartment behind him. 

The auto shop was just around the corner, and he nodded a greeting to Al, the gruff owner, before pulling some tools down from their racks. The morning passed in a steady stream of oil changes, cracked windshields, and flat tires. By the time lunch rolled around, the sun was high in the sky and Dean was sweating in the lingering September heat. 

At some point Al had placed a paper bag near his toolbox, and after Dean waved off his latest car, he finally picked it up. It was a large burger, accompanied by curly fries and a drink. He scrubbed his hands of oil in the stained plastic sink that lived in the shop, then dug into his lunch. 

Just as he popped the last fry into his mouth, his phone trilled from his back pocket. Dean was pleasantly surprised to see Cas’ name on the screen. He swallowed quickly before answering.

“Hey Cas”

“Hello Dean.”

“What’s cooking?”

A second of silence passed before Cas spoke. “I am not currently cooking anything.”

Dean let out a bark of laughter. This dude took everything so literally and it was…adorable. 

“Its another way of saying whats up Cas, doesn’t literally mean I think you’re cooking something.”

“Oh.” Cas said, sounding somewhat confused. He took an audible breath as if he was steeling himself for something difficult.

“I need to ask a favour of you.” He said slowly.

“Sure,” Dean said, curious.

“I understand if you already have plans. Or if you’re simply not interested. Which would be fine. This is sort of last minute and this type of thing is definitely not for everybody and I -“

“Cas” Dean interrupted, holding back a smile. “Just spit it out.”

“Michael is playing for a charity event tonight at eight and Gabriel bought two tickets for each of us so we could bring a girlfr.. a guest. He didn’t tell me about it until just now and if you’re interested, I have the extra ticket.” Cas’ words tumbled out. 

It took Dean a second to absorb them. Charity event. Extra ticket. It wasn’t his thing, at least he didn’t think it was, but he didn’t have the heart to refuse Castiel, especially when he was waiting there in such hopeful silence.

“Michael is the one that plays piano?” Dean clarified.

“Yes. Its a concert in the Royal Hall, all proceeds go towards supporting education for girls in Afghanistan.”

Dean paused. The Royal Hall was a place he hadn’t yet set foot in, despite having lived in the city for going on four years now. He vaguely knew it held uppity events with expensive drinks and rich folk, but that was the extent of his knowledge. It dawned on him just then that perhaps jeans and a flannel might not be proper attire for a concert.

“Do I need to wear anything specific?” Dean asked, keeping his tone light even though he knew he had nothing nice in his closet at home.

“Its black tie..” Cas trailed off apologetically. 

Dean couldn’t bear the desperate tone in his voice. He straightened and decided he would do whatever it was he needed to so he could get to that concert looking sharp as heck. 

“Of course I’ll come Cas.”

“Really?” Cas breathed out, sounding infinitely relieved. “Thank you Dean. I will be at the Hall around seven thirty, last entry is ten minutes before eight”

“Good to know. I’ll see you then,” Dean said before there was a soft click and Cas hung up. He felt a jolt of excitement even as his mind raced, trying to think of how he would manage to find a suit in the next couple hours.

He looked down at his jeans, which had countless dark smears of who knows what on them, and almost laughed at the absurdity of the situation. If only Cas knew what sort of person he had just invited to what was clearly a high class event.

In the end, Dean sent a text to Benny explaining the situation and to asking if he knew of a good place to rent a suit. Benny responded a few minutes later letting him know he actually owned something that would probably fit, and he could bring it over after six.   
seeing Cas, the rest of the shift slipped by. 

Dean cleared up his workspace after finishing his last car of the day, then ducked into the front office to let Al know he was heading out. On his way home, he stopped by a shawarma joint and ate the wrap he bought as he walked. 

Dean had just enough time to scrub all the grease from his skin and wrap a towel around his waist before there was a firm knock on his door. 

“Come in” Dean yelled from his bedroom, where he was hurriedly tugging on a pair of boxers and sweatpants. It seems cloth and damp skin do not enjoy cooperating. 

“You’re awfully brave calling out such an open welcome in a seedy area like this,” Benny’s voice drifted in from the living room.

Dean stepped out, rubbing the towel through his hair to absorb the water.

“I knew it was you,” Dean reasoned. 

Benny gave him a crooked smile and shook his head. He laid a long plastic bag with a hanger sticking out the top over the couch.

“So who are you going out with thats so special you needed a tux?”

“Its not a date Benny, its a charity event,” Dean huffed, picking the bag up curiously.

“Yes. Sure. Keep telling yourself that.” Benny said sarcastically. He walked into the kitchen and pulled out a beer from the fridge. 

“I wore that to a cousin’s wedding a couple years ago. Fanciest thing I own. You better not spill anything on it.”

Dean rolled his eyes. “I promise to treat your suit very nicely Ben.” He brought the bag with him into his room as Benny dropped onto the couch with the TV remote and his beer.

Dean shut the door and carefully lifted the bag off the hanger. He paused, looking at the suit gleaming darkly from the bed. It looked expensive, something he normally wouldn’t have dared come near for fear of ruining it. He touched a black silk lapel and marvelled at how soft it was, how pleasing the glossiness was against the absorbing darkness of the rest of the suit.

Slowly, he dressed himself, starting with the pressed white shirt, then a pair of black pants.   
He slipped on a vest and buttoned it, then put a jacket on top. He fastened a button, then undid it again, then realized he had no idea what it was meant to be worn. 

Dean entered the living room while still fiddling with both the jacket and the collar of the shirt, which was sticking up. 

Benny looked up and him and snorted. 

“Brother…have you never put on a suit?”

Dean looked down at his open jacket and bare feet and suddenly felt ridiculous. He gave Benny a helpless look. 

Benny sighed and thunked his beer onto the coffee table before disappearing into Dean’s room. A moment later, a pair of balled up socks sailed out the door and hit Dean in the chest.

“Put those on.” 

Dean grumbled as he tugged them on. Benny emerged holding a wavy black piece of silk, some cufflinks, and a pair of gleaming black shoes. He dropped the shoes at Dean’s feet and then looped the strip of silk behind his neck.

“Woah dude are you trying to strangle me?” Dean asked, trying to move back. It was no use, Benny had an iron grip and had already begun expertly looping the material together. 

“Calm down brother. Its a bowtie. Worn by gentlemen.” He straightened the bow and folded the collar over it. Next he slid the plain silver cufflinks into place and fastened a button on Dean’s jacket.

“Closed when you’re standing, open when you sit,” Benny explained.

“Closed to stand, opened to sit. Got it,” Dean nodded. 

Benny took a step back to inspect his work. “You need to do something to your hair, its sticking up everywhere. 

Dean frowned and followed Benny into the bathroom, where he rummaged around in the cabinet for a minute before holding up a small jar triumphantly. 

“No. No way am I letting you put that stuff in my hair. I don’t even know how that got here but its not mine,” Dean said, backing away from the gel.

“Quit whining Dean,” Benny said, grabbing his arm and pulling him back towards the mirror. He picked up a comb that was resting on the counter and in a few quick flicks, he had styled Dean’s hair into something that looked almost suave. 

Benny clapped a hand on Dean’s shoulder.

“My boy is all grown up,” he jested, placing a hand over his heart and doing his best to look crushed. 

“Shut up man,” Dean said, shoving him off and leaving to go put on the shoes. 

“Be home by midnight,” Benny continued, following Dean into the short hallway.

“You had better not be here when I get back Ben,” Dean warned, half joking. He grabbed his things and let the door swing shut behind him, knowing Benny would lock up when he left, which would probably only happen once the beer ran out. Dean couldn’t complain, it was fair payment for borrowing the tux. 

The drive to the Royal Hall was short, but Dean spent the entirety of it obsessing over how he should act once he arrived. He was well aware that he lacked in etiquette. There simply was no chance to learn in the rough and unstable house he grew up in. He just hoped he wouldn’t say anything to embarrass Cas.

Turns out he shouldn’t have been worried about what he would say, because he was rendered speechless on arrival. He parked the Impala, and just as he got out, Cas appeared to greet him with a wide smile on his face. 

Dean couldn’t help but slowly look him up and down. He was wearing a deep jewel green suit with a starched off white shirt underneath and a black tie in a subtle striped pattern. His shoes had intricate details pressed into the light brown leather. He must have sprayed something on because he smelled intoxicating. Dean registered all this in the split second before he was pulled into a crushing hug

“Dean I am so glad you came,” Cas said softly by his ear, relieved in a way that said he really thought Dean might not come.

“Cas.” Dean grunted. “Can’t breathe.”

“Oh sorry,” Cas said, letting him go and shoving his hands into his pockets. A dark watch gleamed on his wrist. 

“Should we take our seats? My brothers are already inside.”

Dean nodded with a nervous smile and followed Cas up the thickly carpeted stairs and into the tall glass building. He was led to a cavernous room. Actually, it was so large Dean could barely call it a room. The floor sloped down towards a stage, hundreds of large comfy looking chairs folded down in neat curving rows. 

Cas must have noticed Dean gaping because he grinned.

“Have you never been in a theatre before?”

“Uh,” Dean said stupidly. “I’ve been to a movie theatre but its not quite the same..”

Cas took his elbow and tugged Dean up a staircase he hadn’t noticed before. They emerged in a cup like structure jutting out from the wall. Dean looked around quickly and noticed that this was one of many little rooms like it. He had a view of the stage from above, and if he looked down over the thick carved railing, he could see the rest of the audience filing into the sloped seats below. 

Already seated, was Gabriel, who looked magnificent in a royal blue suit. Beside him was a woman with softly curled brown hair and a black dress that hugged her curves before cascading to the floor. Just past them sat a dark skinned man in a sharp maroon suit, arm around a thin woman with piercing green eyes and a slicked back ponytail of long black hair. 

“Hey hey! You made it!” Gabriel said, standing to shake his hand.

“Dean, you remember my brother, Gabriel. Thats his friend Kali,” Cas explained as Dean reached over to shake her hand. “Thats my brother Raphael and his girlfriend Lydia.”

Dean reached over and shook both their hands in greeting, but he must not have been guarding his expression very well because Raphael let out a low chuckle.

“I know, we look nothing alike,” he gestured between himself and his brothers, both with light skin and blue eyes. “I was adopted.”

Gabriel grinned “Yeah you were,” He smacked Raphael on the arm as if congratulating him. “But don’t worry, I’m over it.”

Raphael shook his head and smiled patiently. It appeared that after thirty something years, one could become immune to Gabriel’s antics. Cas and Dean took their seats and the brothers resumed their individual conversations. 

After a minute of comfortable silence, the lights dimmed and a spotlight followed a slight man as he walked onto the stage. He thanked the guests for supporting the education project, and briefly spoke about the work that was being done in Afghanistan to open a safe school for girls. He must have introduced Michael at some point, but Dean wasn’t quite paying attention. He was lost, admiring how the weak back lights made streams of gold dance in Castiel’s hair. 

He only snapped back to reality once the music started, and even then it was just a brief second before he was transported again. 

The man on stage was not large, but his presence held the room and his command of the piano was complete. A sweet and dainty melody began to flow, so fragile and delicate that it made Dean want to capture it and keep it safe. Michael swayed with the music and in time, it grew and changed and gathered harmonies, some building up the sound and some seeming to compete for attention. 

The melody that at first was so prominent was slowly choked out and replaced by a flow of notes that took on an almost menacing quality. Michael seemed to push his whole body into the large echoing booms of sound and an even marching noise that crashed out of the piano.

It seemed impossible that so many notes could flow out of a single instrument, that it was just one person on stage playing. Dean was transfixed. His heart pounded and he felt alive, full of both wonder and fear. 

Michael’s music moved with the audience. It rose and fell, at times bright and easy, at times slow and thick as molasses. He finished with a flourish and rose, bowing to the sound of thundering applause, which didn’t quiet for several minutes. Dean had no idea how much time had passed. He had forgotten everything except the music and so, was startled when Castiel leaned close.

“How did you like it?” He yelled over the noise of applause.

“It was amazing,” Dean yelled back, unsure if Cas would even hear him. Eventually, the audience quieted and began filing out of the theatre. Dean felt a burning urge to know what the piece was called, he wanted to look it up once he got home and play it again.

He waited until they were the only ones left in their little box room.

“Cas that was unbelievable. He’s so good..” Dean said, leaning backwards against the wooden railing.

Cas smiled and joined him, looking over at the emptying theatre. 

“Michael does have a gift.”

“Who wrote the music?” Dean asked curiously.

“He did. Just now.” Cas explained, tilting his head as if that should have been obvious. 

“What do you mean just now?”

“Michael does not write down his concert pieces. He improvises them as he plays. He says the audience’s energy is inspiration. Each concert piece is different and is only ever played once.”

Dean felt his jaw drop. Theres no way someone was that good. He wouldn’t have believed it unless he saw it with his own eyes, which he just did, and yet he still had trouble believing it. 

As he drove home that night, he wondered if he had contributed anything to the audience energy. Was he part of the lilting melody or was he part of the heavy crashes and deafening booms.


	8. Siblings and S'mores

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I made fresh pasta the other day and my life will never be the same again.

Monday morning was so chilly, Dean’s run went much faster than usual, allowing him to get in a solid hour of studying before he had to leave for class. He finished his reading for chemistry and packed up his books, planning out his day. English first, then chem, then soccer. He figured he would swing by the library before practice to pick up a copy of Gatsby and start reading it that evening. 

With the tentative plan in mind, he packed a quick lunch and made the short walk to school. The sun was up by now and was slowly warming the air. Dean dropped into his usual seat and was surprised to find Cas already there, bent over a book. 

“Hey Cas,” Dean greeted casually. His heart was fluttering and he felt flushed. Cas’s messy hair was flopped down over one eye and Dean wanted to reach out and brush it away. He dug his hands into his bag and pulled out his laptop instead.

“Dean,” Cas beamed, looking up at him. “I started reading our book. I’ve forgotten how good this one is.” He tucked a thumb inside to mark his place and held up the book so Dean could see the cover. 

“Have you started it yet?”

“No, I was going to get it from the library before soccer practice today, hopefully start reading after practice,” Dean explained.

“Oh.” Cas said shortly. He hesitated for a second. “Would you like to come over and read together? My sister is coming over for dinner so you can eat with us too. If you want.”

Dean’s heart skipped a beat. He tried not to read to far into the fact that he had hung out with Cas two days in a row, both outside of school.

“Yeah I’d love that,” He grinned. “If I won’t be intruding. I don’t wanna barge in on your family time.”

“Don’t be ridiculous Dean,” Cas shook his head. 

Just then the professor cleared her throat and began the morning’s lecture. Dean went silent out of respect and was soon absorbed with the lesson. A few minutes in, Cas slid a piece of paper his way.

_Come whenever soccer practice is finished._

Dean smiled at the neat loopy writing and responded with his short boyish scrawl that he tried not to feel too self conscious about.

_I can be there around 5:30_

Cas took the paper back, letting his fingers brush against Dean’s for a second too long. The fluttering in his chest and his complete inability to abstain from stealing glances at Cas made the rest of the lecture a hazy memory. 

———

By the time Dean finished showering after soccer practice, it was already 5:00. He walked up to his apartment and had the dumbest panic over what to wear. He wanted to be casual because it was a study session, but he didn’t think sweatpants and a sweater would cut it for a family dinner. He ended up putting on a nicer pair of jeans and a green plaid shirt, nothing fancy. On his way out he grabbed his keys and the copy of Gatsby he had checked out from the library earlier that day. 

The drive to Castiel’s house was no less breathtaking the second time around. Dean parked the car near the edge of the roundabout and hesitated before the large front door. His phone pinged.

_Just come straight to my room_

Dean took a deep breath and steeled himself to walk straight inside. Somehow it felt too intrusive, but if Cas told him to just go in then he refused to stand outside like a sissy. He quickly opened the door and shut it behind him. 

There was nobody in the hallway, so Dean slipped off his shoes and headed upstairs to Cas’s room. He found the door wide open. Cas was sprawled on his bed reading, but sat up and smiled when Dean came in.

“Hi,” Cas said, almost shyly. Dean swallowed. Cas’s hair was sticking up all over. He looked like someone had just had his way with him. Dean inconspicuously moved his book in front of himself, annoyed that of all the times to act like his past hormonal teenage self, his body chose this moment in particular. 

“Hi,” Dean croaked out in response. He wanted to kick himself. He probably would later.

Cas didn’t seem to notice. “You can take the desk. Or the floor. Or the bed and I’ll take the floor. Or we can both sit on the bed. Unless you’re not into that,” Cas blurted, moving to the wall to make room for Dean. His eyes widened. 

“That’s not what I meant, I-“

Dean interrupted with a nervous laugh. “I’m good anywhere.”

Cas smiled slowly and patted the spot beside him. Dean wasted no time in crawling up onto the bed and leaning against the wall with Cas. He was so close he could feel the heat floating up off Cas’s skin.

“So what part are you at?” Cas asked, curiously leaning over to see what page Dean had opened up to.

“Dude!” Dean laughed. “I haven’t even started yet, just got it today and then I had soccer.”

“Ah, I forgot you’re into the sweating and running around thing and don’t have time to read.”

“Well I apologize for having a schedule,” Dean answered, putting a hand over his heart in mock offence. 

“Hey I have a schedule! I actually did an entire photo shoot today,” Cas defended. 

“Seriously? I would love to see some of your stuff,” Dean said, suddenly serious. 

Cas blushed at the intense interest. “Maybe later,” he deflected, fidgeting with his book.

Dean wanted to protest that now was a good time when his stomach made the loudest most obnoxious gurgle. Cas snorted.

“Sorry Dean, dinner will be ready around 7. Gabriel is making macaroni and cheese with chicken nuggets, Hazel’s favourite.”

“Hazel is your sister’s kid?” Dean asked. He was slightly amused that a professional chef like Gabriel would be making macaroni and chicken nuggets for a family dinner, but based on what he had seen of the family so far, Dean thought it best to withhold any judgement. For all he knew the chicken nuggets could be imported straight from France, or wherever it was that they came from. Either way, he loved chicken nuggets. 

“Yeah, she just turned three and her favourite thing in the world is Gabriel’s cooking. Oh, and me of course,” Cas grinned cheekily. 

“Awh that’s cute,” Dean teased, nudging Cas with his elbow. 

“Yes it is,” Cas answered, whacking Dean back with his book, which was totally unfair because it was a hardcover. Dean whacked him with his own, which probably wasn’t a good idea because it set off a whacking war. 

It took all of thirty seconds for that to get old and Cas pushed Dean backwards onto the bed, trying to control his laughter. Dean didn’t stay down for long. He hadn’t spend a lifetime wrestling with his brothers for nothing. It was a vicious struggle, made harder by the fact that both boys were laughing too hard, but Dean finally pinned Cas under him. He grinned down, triumphant.

“Gotcha.”

Cas didn’t respond. He was breathing hard, immobile, and he didn’t seem to mind one bit. He was looking up at Dean with an intensity that made Dean shiver. He crawled off Cas and put his back up to the wall again before he could do something stupid, like kiss that open breathless mouth. 

“We should read,” Dean said, picking up his book again.

“Yeah,” Cas breathed out. He grabbed his book too but didn’t bother getting up. He flipped to his bookmark and read with laser focus for the next hour, spread out languidly on his back. 

Dean was semi productive. He got through almost two chapters and mostly managed to ignore the tanned strip of skin taunting him from where Cas’s shirt had lifted. The book was interesting, but he was glad when Cas snapped his shut and swung off the bed, stretching his arms above his head. 

“Would you like to walk outside for a little?” He offered, holding out a hand to tug Dean off the bed.

“Heck yes,” Dean accepted the hand and allowed himself to be pulled up. He tossed his book onto the bed and followed Cas out the front door. 

They barely made it outside when a teeny blur with red hair and a white dress bolted at them.

“Uncle Cassie!” Said the small girl as she ran. Cas smiled and crouched down, opening his arms wide to catch the child. She ran straight into his chest and he held her and tipped backwards, pretending to have been knocked over. 

“Hazel! You’re too strong!”

Cas tickled her sides and tossed her into the air, making her breathless with giggles. Something in Dean’s chest melted at the sight.

Cas finally let the little girl up and she wiped messy locks of hair out of her face. Dean noticed her eyes were the same dark blue as Cas’s were. 

Hazel gaped up at Dean as if noticing him for the first time. Dean smiled nervously at her, unsure how to really talk to a child so small.

“Hi. I’m Dean,” he said, offering a hand for her to shake. She continued to gape so he awkwardly ran the rejected hand trough his hair.

“Are you uncle Cassie’s boyfriend?” She asked in an innocently curious voice.

Dean sputtered, but was thankfully saved from answering when a slender redheaded woman scooped the child up.

“Okay thats enough out of you,” She said, shifting Hazel onto one hip and extending a hand to Dean.

“Sorry, no filter on this one. I’m Anna, Castiel’s sister. And you’ve met my daughter, Hazel.”

“Pleasure,” Dean said, shaking her hand and trying to appear casual. Cas watched the exchange with a tiny smirk. He hugged his sister in greeting.

“I was actually just coming to get you boys. Gabriel has set up in the garden if you’d like to join,” she gestured to the path. Hazel squirmed out of her arms and grabbed Castiel’s hand.

“Come on uncle Cassie, I’m hungry,” She said, tugging him around towards the back of the house. Cas looked back and shrugged apologetically but allowed himself to be pulled along.

Anna sighed and smiled. “I wish I had a fraction of that energy,” she admitted to Dean as they followed behind. 

In the garden, dinner had been set up on a mosaic tile table. Cas was sitting on a chair beside Hazel, helping her pour some pink lemonade into a tall glass. Her tiny hands looked doll like compared to Cas’s large ones. Dean recognized Michael, and Rafael already seated and in a heated discussion about something political. 

Cas caught Dean’s eye and nodded to the empty chair beside him. Anna scooped Hazel up and sat in her chair. 

“Oh perfect! Everyone is here,” Gabriel said as he walked along the path. He looked ridiculous in a chef’s hat and a heavily floured apron. It may have been dusted white, but the red lettering that read kiss the cook was unmistakable. He set down the two large bowls he was holding and removed his oven mitts. 

“Dinner is served,” he said with a dramatic sweeping bow. Hazel laughed, delighted, and Gabriel kissed her cheek before claiming the last open chair.

“So, what are we talking about,” he asked, sending Dean a nod in greeting. 

“Oh nothing of importance,” MIchael said, scooping some pasta first for Hazel, then for Anna. “But I must inform you that our brother is an idiot,” he said, shaking his head at Rafael, who was popping open some chilled beers and passing them to the adults. 

“Woah language,” Rafael interrupted, gesturing at Hazel who was completely oblivious, reaching for the chicken nuggets. Anna absentmindedly moved her lemonade out of range of her flailing arms and brought the bowl closer to her.

“Please, no more talk of politics,” Anna begged, passing the nugget bowl onwards. 

“So sensitive sis,” Gabriel teased. “How’s the pottery going?”

“Very well actually, I sold a couple pieces to a buyer in Europe just yesterday,” she smiled.

“Europe!” Rafael said excitedly. “My little sister is famous worldwide,” he sighed.

Anna tossed a chicken nugget at him and he ducked it easily. “Don’t tease me, not everyone can be as famous as you with your fancy paintings and uppity buyers.”

“Woah! Respect the nuggets. I worked hard on those babies,” Gabriel complained, picking up the projectile chicken and popping it in his mouth. He either didn’t notice or didn’t care that there was a piece of grass stuck to it. 

Dean watched the exchange with a strange feeling. Everyone was so playful and carefree. It seemed almost as if…they liked each other. He felt a pang in his gut as he remembered his own tense family dinners. His father usually drank too much, if he didn’t it was because he was already drunk. More often than not it ended with something being smashed and someone being yelled at. 

Castiel must have noticed his quiet because he nudged him gently with an elbow. 

“Do you like it?” He quirked an eyebrow at Dean’s plate. 

Dean looked down and realized he hadn’t even taken a bite yet. He picked up his fork and speared some cheesy pasta. It was surreal; better than any pasta Dean had ever tried before. The flavour was sharp, and the pasta itself was simply indescribable; somehow fluffy and dense at the same time. 

“Good huh? I made it from scratch,” Gabriel bragged, crunching on another nugget.

“Its amazing,” Dean said around a mouthful. He swallowed and took another large bite. 

“You’ve outdone yourself brother,” Michael said, scooping more pasta onto his plate. 

“Can I go play?” Hazel piped up. She had cheese smeared all around her mouth. Castiel laughed and wiped it off with a napkin.

“Sure H, just don’t leave the garden okay?” Anna said after making sure Hazel’s plate was empty. Hazel nodded and wasted no time, bounding towards the flower beds.

The conversation around dinner flowed easily, and Dean eventually relaxed enough to join in on the light banter. Cas was by far the quietest of all the siblings, but it was clear they all sought his opinion and listened attentively whenever he spoke. 

As the sun slowly dipped lower, the plates were cleared and Michael joined Gabriel inside to help him bring out dessert. Rafael gathered some logs and started a fire in a pit Dean hadn’t even noticed before. 

Hazel ran back to the group once she heard the fire cracking. There were flowers sticking out of her hair where she had evidently tried to make herself a crown but hadn’t tied any of the stems together. She hopped straight towards Castiel, who was sitting on a chair beside Dean.

“I love you uncle Cassie,” Hazel drawled sweetly.

Cas laughed and scooped her up for a hug.

“Will you make me a s’more?” She whispered in the tone of a child who hadn’t yet mastered the whole whispering thing. 

“You buttered me up!” Cas accused. Hazel just giggled, not denying anything. 

Michael came out carrying a bag of jumbo marshmallows, some chocolate squares, and a box of graham crackers. Gabriel followed close behind with some roasting sticks in one hand and a guitar case in the other. He gently placed the case beside Cas and winked before tearing open the marshmallow bag from Michael and spearing a couple on the sticks. 

“Alright who’s good at roasting?” He asked, offering the sticks out. Castiel eased Hazel off his lap and took one, as did Anna and Raphael. 

“Want one?” Gabriel asked, offering Dean the last metal rod. He glanced at Michael who gestured for him to take it, so he did. 

“Thanks,” Dean said. He adjusted the marshmallow to make sure it was stuck on properly, then plunged it straight into the flames, lighting it on fire.

There was a chorus of noise from the siblings, some startled, some shocked, and Gabriel looked downright offended. Dean blew the fire out and pulled the charred marshmallow off, letting it drop straight into his mouth.

“That.” Gabriel started evenly. “Was the single most disgusting thing I’ve seen in my entire life.”

Dean raised an eyebrow at him, mouth full of burnt goo.

“Cassie, I beg of you, show Dean here how to roast a marshmallow,” Gabriel said, spearing a new one on Dean’s stick in an overly cautious way, as if Dean’s marshmallow abuse habits were contagious. Cas was crouched by the fire looking up at Dean like he was trying to hold back a laugh.

“Have you always eaten them like that?”

Dean wiped the corner of his mouth with the back of his hand and shrugged.

“Its a marshmallow, is that not how you’re supposed to eat it?”

“Uhh, no,” Hazel said sassily from the chair she had claimed. 

“Come here,” Cas beckoned. Dean crouched beside him. “If you hold it near the edge of the fire and turn it slowly, it melts the inside and roasts the outside without burning it,” he explained.

“That looks a lot slower than my way Cas,” Dean defended. 

“Trust me, it will be worth it,” Cas reassured. Dean rolled his eyes but tried his best to copy what Cas was doing. Within a couple minutes, both marshmallows puffed up and got darker on the outside. Hazel appeared with two crackers and a piece of chocolate, and Cas slid his marshmallow off the stick for her.

“What do we say?” Anna asked softly.

“Thank you!” Hazel said around a mouthful of s’more. She hugged Cas’s leg, leaving behind a smear of chocolate. Cas huffed and wiped it away. He took the next cracker and chocolate ensemble from Gabriel and slid Dean’s perfectly toasted marshmallow into it before handing it back to him.

“There. A real s’more,” he grinned brightly. 

Dean shook his head and took a bite. It was…okay it was totally worth it to wait the extra minute to properly roast the marshmallow. Cas didn’t wait for an answer so he could gloat. He just laughed at Dean’s expression and went on to toast the next marshmallow. 

The conversation and beer flowed, and eventually, everyone had had their fill of sugar and claimed a chair. Hazel had spent the last half hour running around the garden chasing some stressed out squirrels, and she returned now to the fire to join the adults. She looked around the circle and eventually, inexplicably, walked up to Dean, crawled into his lap, and lounged against him. Dean froze, unsure of what to do.

Cas was looking at him with a strangely warm expression and Dean caught his eye and shrugged. Hazel picked up Dean’s hand and played with his fingers, tracing them and folding them with her teeny small ones. 

Cas smiled and reached down to pull the guitar out of its case. It was simple, a warm brown, with the firelight dancing across its glossy finish. Cas leaned forward and slowly began to pick at it, a low calming sound that made Hazel still and turn towards it. She curled on her side against Dean’s chest and watched as her uncle played. 

Soon, Anna joined in with a lilting hum from the seat beside Dean. From across the fire, Gabriel began to snap his fingers. Raphael started a simple whistle and Michael joined him, slightly lower and with a melody that almost harmonized. 

Both Dean and Hazel were entranced. The music was so soft and spontaneous, all the parts were so simple and laid back, but when put together, it was all just…comforting. Cas grew a little bolder with the guitar and strummed some soft chords under the constant picking. Gabriel had built up to some sort of beat, snapping and clapping and clicking his fingers together in a way that made it seem impossible for the sound to be coming from just two hands. Anna was still humming a low melody and Raphael, and Michael’s whistling blended with it perfectly. The siblings built onto each other and when the song slowly tapered out, Dean felt like he was being pulled awake from a dream. 

In his lap, Hazel let out a soft snore. 

“Wow,” Raphael snorted. “I feel so under appreciated.” 

“Shut up Raf, its way past her bedtime,” Anna said quietly. “Speaking of which, we should be heading in.” She gently lifted Hazel from Dean and tucked her into her shoulder. Dean felt suddenly very cold and exposed, so he stood as well.

“I should probably leave too.”

“Are you sure?” Cas asked, suddenly up as well and looking a little dejected. “We have a couple guest rooms. It’s late. Don’t drive back now.”

Dean considered the three beers he had drank over the course of the evening and weighed driving against imposing. 

“Stay Dean, there’s lots of room,” Michael offered. 

“Are you sure? Its not a far drive, it’s not even that late,” Dean said, checking his watch. It was nearing 11.

“Please Dean?” Gabriel begged. “I need an excuse to make pancakes in the morning.”

Well that settled it. “Sure Gabe,” Dean chuckled. “If you really need me.”

Gabriel grinned. “Cassie, get this man a room.”

Castiel rolled his eyes at his brother but gestured for Dean to follow him. They passed Anna on the stairs, who had just tucked Hazel into a bed and was quietly shutting the door. She pressed a finger to her lips and whispered a quiet good night. 

When they reached Castiel’s room, Dean was handed a pair of soft well worn pyjama bottoms and a plain blue shirt. 

“There’s towels and extra toothbrushes and whatnot in the bathroom,” Cas said as he led Dean to the far end of the hall and into a minimal grey bedroom. He pointed to the door in the corner, which Dean assumed was the bathroom. 

“Do you have class in the morning?”

“Law at 10,” Dean answered.

Cas nodded. “Thanks for coming over Dean,” he said, looking at Dean with open honesty.

“Its been nice having someone around. My family can be a little crazy sometimes. Sorry if they overwhelmed you,” Cas said sheepishly.

“Are you kidding me Cas? Your family is amazing. I haven’t eaten this well in…probably since I left home. Maybe not even then,” Dean answered, thinking back to Bobby’s overly salted and often burnt attempts at cooking. 

Cas seemed to grow at the praise and Dean found himself taking a step forward, just to be closer to that radiant smile. He might have imagined it, but Cas’s eyes flicked down to his lips for a brief second before he took a deep breath and pushed his hands into his pockets.

“Kitchen is downstairs if you get hungry and I’m just down the hall if you need anything else.”

“Thank Cas, I think I’ll be okay. Thanks again for the room,” Dean said, gesturing to the bed which looked ten times more inviting than his own back at the apartment.

“Good night Dean,” Cas said in a low voice.

“Night Cas. See you in the morning, Dean answered. Cas lingered for a moment in the doorway but eventually shut the door behind him without saying anything more. 

Dean found the promised toothbrush in the bathroom and after a quick shower to get the smoke smell out of his hair, he put on the borrowed pyjamas and settled into bed. It was different, being surrounded by softness and the smell of Cas, but it was a good different.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't drink and drive kids! (Sleep over at your crush's place instead)
> 
> Also I need to inform all of you out there who burn your marshmallows that you're doing it wrong.


	9. Pancakes and cuddles

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Whoops. Bed sharing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm living in the strange twilight of alternating day and night shifts and I no longer have any real concept of time except that its slipping by at an alarming rate. But on the other hand I'm now a labour and delivery nurse which is mind-blowing for me and I thought the world should know.

_Dean regained consciousness in the dark with a splitting headache and a stiff back. He tried to move, and found he was bound to a chair by something scratchy tying his wrists behind him. He twisted, trying to break free, but the ropes were wound around him so tightly he couldn’t move a single inch._

_There was a quiet whimper from somewhere in the room, and when the lights clicked on, Dean saw with horror that it had come from either Adam or Sam. His brothers were bound back to back in a heap on the floor. They were shivering and looking at Dean with wide helpless eyes._

_Dean twisted harder, desperate now to free his brothers._

_“I wouldn’t, pet.” A voice like a thousand rustling bugs said from behind him. The creature came forward and Dean recoiled. It stood just over seven feet tall, although the height came largely from the three sets of antlers sprouting from its bald head. Its eyes were small, completely black, and startlingly, the only feature on its otherwise papery white face. Its body was all angles, bones jutting out from where bones normally wouldn’t. It was dressed in a tattered piece of cloth that may have been a sack at some point. It's smell was unbearable; rotting meat and something else sickeningly sweet._

_It turned to face his brothers and Dean heaved. On the back of its neck, right at the base of its misshapen skull, was a gaping hole that looked like it had been chewed open. This hole moved, and cracked teeth could be seen inside it. Dean realized with numb shock that this was the creatures mouth._

_“You two are next” it snarled. It raised a bony fist and brought it down hard on the side of Sam’s head. Dean yelled out, probably louder than his brother had. He continued to fight against his restraints and call out for the creature to stop, but his panic fell on deaf ears. He could do nothing but watch in horror as his brothers were beaten. Fists rained down on their tiny bodies and claws tore into their childish skin, and Dean could do nothing to protect them._

Dean woke with a gasp and immediately felt trapped in the bedding that had twisted all around his body. He wretched everything off, breathing hard, and flung himself out of the bed. 

“You idiot. Its not real.” He whispered angrily to himself in the soft darkness of the room. Hearing words aloud did nothing to calm his racing heart or erratic breathing. He needed to get out. He needed water, air. He needed to hold his brothers and reassure himself that they were alive and safe. 

His heart squeezed in on itself when he remembered that Adam was gone. It was just him and Sam now. He stumbled to the door and opened it with a trembling hand. He hated sleeping. He hated letting himself become vulnerable, letting his subconscious take over, he hated forgetting that he had lost people, and worst of all, he hated crashing back into reality and remembering all the horrors he had lived through. 

His body somehow stumbled around in the semi darkness and found its way to the kitchen, but his mind was far gone. Dean’s hands were on autopilot. He picked up a random glass from the counter and filled it with tap water. He drank deeply and realized from far off that the water was warm because he hadn’t noticed the temperature as it was filling. It was a stupid thing to notice, but it brought him back into his own body enough to also notice that a hallway light had been turned on. Cas was now in the kitchen and was looking at him like he was waiting for an answer. Dean hadn’t heard the question.

Cas first reached out and lightly pressed the fingers of one hand to Dean’s arm. When Dean didn’t move, he gently pried the empty glass from Dean, set it down on the counter, and pulled Dean into a tight hug. Only once he was pressed against Castiel’s steady chest did he realize how hard he was shaking. 

“Dean its okay, whatever happened you’re okay. You’re safe. Please talk to me, I’m right here.” Cas murmured softly. He was holding Dean so tightly it seemed like he was determined to keep him from shaking apart. 

“I’m fine,” Dean said. It came out much weaker than he had intended. Dean moved to extricate himself from the hug, but Cas’s grip was firm, so he eventually relaxed instead and let his mind and body calm down in the warmth and safety of Cas’s arms.

It was hard to tell time in the semi darkness, it could have been a minute, it could have been hundreds of them, but eventually Cas’s hold loosened and Dean took a small step back. 

“I’m sorry,” Dean said, feeling silly and still slightly unbalanced.

Cas shook his head. “You have nothing to apologize for.”

“But I woke you,” Dean protested. 

Cas raised an eyebrow at him. “Dean its only 12, I was up sorting photos.” 

“Oh.”

“Come back to bed,” Cas suggested softly, putting a hand on Dean’s back and guiding him upstairs. He stopped in the hallway and tipped his head towards his own room questioningly. 

“Cas I-“ 

“Please,” Cas interrupted Dean’s protest. The protests wilted out of him. Who cares if this went slightly beyond the line of friendship and into some unknown territory? Dean didn’t think he could be alone right now anyways. He belatedly realized Cas probably already knew and understood that as he followed him into the darkness of the room and into the still warm bed.

Dean laid on his side, taking up as little room as possible. There was an amused huff from somewhere behind him and suddenly an arm snaked around his waist, pulling him tight against a warm hard body. 

Dean froze but Cas only snuggled closer, spooning Dean perfectly. 

“Good night,” Cas murmured innocently into his hair, as if this was totally normal and platonic. 

Dean coughed on his first try, but eventually managed to squeak out some sort of response despite the chaos in his brain. He somehow managed not to turn around and kiss the hell out of Cas, but it was a close thing. 

——————

Dean woke with the weight of a leg across his thigh and a hand fitted perfectly inside one if his. He spent a confused moment gazing at the rough fingers he was holding and wondered briefly how drunk he got last night to have ended up in bed with another man. He tipped his head to the side and nearly gasped. 

He was in Castiel’s bed. 

And Castiel was holding his hand. 

Castiel’s leg was draped over his. 

The night filtered back to him in fuzzy pieces, and he wanted to worry about whether or not he had thrown himself at Cas, but he was too distracted by the dark lashes against Cas’s sleep flushed cheeks. His hair looked even messier than usual, like someone had run their fingers through it. 

Heck, it was entirely possible that Dean may have done just that in his sleep. 

The thought made his stomach swoop and Dean slowly extricated himself from the bed before things took an embarrassing twist. He wanted to hope that there was a chance, but he knew hope was a dangerous thing. But still…what kind of guy invites another guy into their bed and cuddles them unless they aren’t slightly… _slightly_ interested. 

Dean took one last look at Cas’s serene sleeping face and padded silently out of the room to get dressed. He eventually made his way to the kitchen, mostly following the scent of something cooking . 

“Dean-o!” Gabriel said excitedly, swinging his arms out in a grand gesture. The pancake he had been in the middle of flipping spun off his spatula and bumped off the wall with a soft thud. 

“Whoops,” Gabriel said, shrinking slightly. 

“Good morning,” Dean said, trying to suppress a laugh. The kitchen was a wonderland of sliced fruit, bowls of batter, towers of pancakes, and a stack of plates ready to be filled. Gabriel removed a bowl of what appeared to be fresh whipped cream from the standing mixer and laid it by the general food pile. 

“I hope you’re hungry. Everyone else has already eaten and left me,” Gabriel said in a wounded voice. 

“Yeah I could eat,” Dean answered, eyeing the sliced strawberries.

“Well load er’up,” Gabriel gestured again with the spatula, thankfully now pancake free. Dean picked a plate off the pile and began doing just that.

“Sooooo…did you sleep well?” Gabriel asked cheekily once Dean had a mouthful of pancake and fruit. He nodded in response, which in hindsight probably wasn’t the best answer. 

Gabriel smirked. “I’ll bet you did. Thank god the walls are soundproof or I would have been scarred for life,”

Dean quirked an eyebrow, confused, then sputtered as he realized what Gabriel was getting at. No, no, no he had to fix this right now. He swallowed the giant bite.

“We weren’t-“

“Leave him alone Gabriel,” said an unamused Cas from the doorway. He rolled his eyes at his brother and filled a plate with fruit before sitting down beside Dean. 

“Good morning,” he said, smiling almost shyly. 

“Hi.”

“Oh, my god you two are adorable,” Gabriel cooed. Cas picked up the nearest pancake and whipped it at his brother. It hit him square in the chest and dropped to the ground. Gabriel gasped dramatically. 

“That is _wasteful_ ,” he accused. He picked it up off the floor and held it mournfully in his hands for a moment before smirking and whipping it back. Cas leaned easily out of the way and it sailed past him. 

“Well then,” Gabriel sniffed indignantly. “I’m leaving.” He piled a plate high with pancakes, drowned them in both maple and chocolate syrup, covered the sopping mess with whipped cream, and walked straight out of the kitchen.

“Thank you for making breakfast!” Cas called out to his retreating back.

Dean laughed shortly. “He’s really something.”

“Yeah,” Cas answered, shaking his head. He picked at his fruit silently for a few seconds, then opened his mouth to say something and shut it again. 

Dean rested his fork onto his empty plate and sat back in his chair. “Cas we don’t have to talk about it.”

“Oh,” Cas said, looking up awkwardly. “I wasn’t thinking about that. I was trying to figure out how to ask you out.”

“Yes,” Dean blurted immediately, then bit down on his tongue and blushed a deep pink. 

Cas broke into a huge smile. “Wow really? You would go out with me?”

Dean looked incredulously at him. Did the guy seriously think anyone would say no to a face and a heart like that?

“I didn’t think this far ahead. I don’t actually have anything planned,” Cas admitted, twisting his fingers together. Dean was temped to reach out and take both his worrying hands but this was too new and too undefined for him to risk messing anything up. 

“Cas I really don’t care what we do. I love hanging out.”

Castiel seemed to gain some confidence at that. “Then would you like to meet me at the beach for dinner? I’ll pack a picnic and we can just…hang out,” he offered. 

“That sounds really great Cas. Is 5 okay?”

Cas nodded and smiled around a forkful of fruit. From somewhere in the house, a clock struck 9 and the gentle toll of its bell brought Dean back to reality. Tonight would be a dream come true but before then there was work to be done. 

“I gotta get to class,” Dean said, unable to hide the regret in his voice. 

“I’ll walk you out,” Cas answered, stacking their plates and loading them into the dishwasher. They walked together to the Impala and Dean didn’t miss the fact that Cas walked so close he could feel his body heat. 

Dean stepped into the car and rolled the window down.

“Bye Cas, thanks for everything,” he said, hoping Cas would understand that he literally meant thank you for everything last night. 

Cas grinned at him, then swooped down and planted the worlds quickest kiss on Dean’s cheek. 

“See you tonight Dean.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm really on the fence with how smutty I want this fic to turn out...please please let me know what level of steamy you'd like to see. Scale of 1-10?


	10. On the Beach

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Beach date...need I say more?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> An update two days later! I'm definitely not ignoring all my responsibilities and writing instead... Thank you all for your feedback on the last chapter note, I appreciate each and every one of you.

Somehow, Dean managed to put the date out of his mind and get through both his classes and soccer practice. Only when he had stepped out of the shower and was standing in his room, towel around his waist, did reality hit. 

He was going on a date. 

With Castiel Novak. 

For a few moments, the thought was pure bliss, but then the doubt started to creep in. 

_He just wants to sleep with you and then he’ll avoid you and everything will be super awkward. You’re going to mess this up somehow. He’s going to hurt you._

“Shut the hell up Dean,” He said aloud, annoyed with his own brain for twisting things. All those thoughts _could_ technically become reality, but as of right now, they weren’t, so he refused to give them any more space in his mind. He was just nervous, this whole ‘date with a guy’ thing was too new. 

Anytime Dean had been picked up by a guy before, it was a bar encounter and one night stand sort of deal, usually ending with sex so rough that it bordered on abuse. He just didn’t know any other way, and for this reason the thought of sex with Cas made him somewhat excited, but mostly sick to his stomach. If thats what Cas wanted though, then thats what Dean would allow. 

Dean took a deep breath and moved to put on a pair of dark blue shorts and his lightest t-shirt. He sat on the edge of his bed and checked his watch. 

4:11

Right about now, he would normally be picking up roses and maybe also some chocolate or a stuffed animal, but somehow roses and a stuffed bear didn’t feel like an appropriate thing to woo Cas with. 

He decided to call the smartest person he knew and just ask instead of spending the next hour debating alone and getting nowhere. 

The phone rang a couple times before Sam answered. 

“Hey Dean, whats up?”

“I need help Sam.”

“Is everything okay?” 

“Yeah everything is fine. Its just. Well I’m going on a date with this guy and I have no idea what ‘first date with a guy’ etiquette is and I really don’t want to mess this one up,” Dean blurted. 

Sam paused for a long moment and it was in that moment that Dean realized he had never told his brother about dating any guys before. There had never been a reason to because none of them were real dates, and honestly, they had never made a habit of discussing his sex life. 

“I don’t really know Dean. Depends what he’s like,” Sam said, taking the information in stride so easily it was as if he had always known. Dean released a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. 

“Creative, rich, sweet as hell.”

Sam laughed. “Sounds to me that he would like anything then. How formal is this date?”

“He said casual. Its a picnic on the beach.”

“Seriously? Thats…pretty romantic. I didn’t peg you for the romantic type.”

“Shut up Sam, are you gonna help me or not?”

Dean could almost hear Sam roll his eyes through the phone. 

“Guys like flowers too. Get him something wild,” Sam suggested. Dean thought for a moment and what had seemed like a stupid idea in his head seemed like a much smarter one coming from Sam’s mouth. Wildflowers were a lot more fitting for Cas than roses were.

“Thank you,” Dean said, relieved. He held his phone to his ear with a shoulder and gathered his keys and wallet. “How’s your girl? Rose? Ruby? Something with an R..”

“Ruby. She’s great, we’re doing well.”

“I’m happy for you man,” Dean said honestly. “School is going okay?”

“Yeah, better than okay.”

“And Bobby?”

“He’s good. Busy as usual. I barely see him since I’m out studying so much.”

“Take it easy Sam, don’t burn yourself out,” Dean cautioned. He locked the front door and made his way out of the building, heading towards the beach. 

“Well I’m gonna let you go. I’m on a hunt for wildflowers.”

“Bye Dean.”

“Later Sammy,” Dean answered and hung up. He tucked his phone into his pocket and slowed his walk, scanning the tufts of grass for flowers. 

By the time he reached the beach, he had a full bouquet of colourful blooms and interesting leaves. Most of them were probably weeds, but they all looked pretty so he hoped Cas wouldn’t care. 

He scanned the sand and saw a blanket set up with a basket over it to keep it from blowing away. Cas was by the shore, taking photos of the waves with his feet in the water. Dean tucked the flowers behind his back and approached him. 

“Dean!” Cas said with a bright smile when he saw him. 

“Hi Cas,” Dean grinned back. He pulled the flowers from behind him and held them out. 

“These are for you.”

“Dean, are you trying to seduce me?” Cas asked, eyes glinting with amusement. 

“Depends, is it working?”

Cas laughed and snapped a photo of Dean and the outstretched bouquet before taking them and admiring the flowers up close. 

“These are gorgeous,” Cas said, smiling shyly. “Thank you.”

Dean was preparing something suave in response when a huge wave crashed over their legs. Cas lifted his camera high to keep it out of the water, but lost his balance in the shifting sand. Dean lunged and caught him by the waist before he tumbled into the water, flowers, camera, and all. 

Cas was by no means light, and Dean ended up pulling him close to his chest to keep them both from tumbling down. 

Cas laughed, still holding his camera up with one hand. Their faces were now inches apart and Dean found he had forgotten how to breathe. 

“Lets go eat,” Cas said cheekily, giving Dean a quick peck on the nose before removing himself from his arms. He jogged back to the blanket without waiting for a response and Dean chuckled to himself before following. 

Castiel put his camera back into its case and dug around in the basket before presenting Dean with a sandwich. 

“Ham and swiss. I made them myself,” Cas said proudly, taking a bite out of his own. 

“Thank you Cas,” Dean said, touched that Cas would take the time to do something like this for him. The boys ate in silence, watching the waves roll in and out and enjoying the light breeze. When Dean finished eating he stretched his arms up and flopped back onto the blanket. Cas immediately lifted Dean’s head and placed it back over his crossed legs. He rummaged around in the basket for a moment and triumphantly pulled out a large bunch of grapes. 

“I want to know all about you Dean Winchester,” Cas picked off a grape and held it in front of Dean’s lips. Dean looked at him upside down and gently took the grape from his fingers. 

“What do you want to know?” He asked once he had finished chewing. 

“The important stuff of course. Favourite colour?” Cas asked seriously.

Dean snorted. “How is that a serious question? If I answer red or something then its a deal breaker?”

Cas gave him an even look. “Well it just might be.”

“Blue Cas. It’s blue. Yours?”

“Green,” Cas answered, looking straight into Dean’s eyes. 

“Favourite food?”

“Pie,” Dean answered immediately. 

“Thats not a food, thats a dessert,” Cas protested. 

Dean looked offended for a moment. “Fine then. Bacon.”

Cas rolled his eyes and sighed. “Birthday?” 

“January 24th. Hey this feels like an interrogation. You have to answer some questions too.”

“Fine. I like burgers, peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, and October 11th. That’s me in a nutshell,” Cas answered sassily. 

“No way you’re that simple Cas. Heck, you wear two different shoes.”

“They’re the same shoe Dean, just different colours.”

“Same thing. What were you like growing up?”

Cas paused for a moment, thinking. His hand drifted up to run through the hair over Dean’s ear. “I guess I was quiet. I loved to take pictures and read books and just be outside.”

Dean hummed, trying to picture a young Cas walking around with a camera hung safely around his neck. He felt a rush of warmth at the thought and lifted his hand to rest it over Castiel’s for a second. 

“What were you like?” Cas asked, transferring his attention from Dean’s hair to the curve of his fingers.

“Oh, I was a nightmare probably,” Dean said, thinking of all the times he had angered his dad. It seemed like he was constantly in trouble for one thing or another. “I remember loving to explore. I would come home all muddy from splashing around in streams and crawling under fallen logs with Sam and Adam.”

Cas fed Dean another grape. “So how did you end up living with Bobby then?”

Dean swallowed. “He was always a close friend; would take us boys in when my dad went wild drinking. I guess he was the closest thing to family Sam and I had left and it just made sense.”

Cas nodded, then gently nudged Dean up. “Sun is setting,” he said, eyes fixed on the horizon. 

Dean watched the sky for a moment, a stunning fade of pink to orange to red. He turned to see Cas watching the sunset and found that view even more stunning. The weakening rays bounced off the water and seemed to reflect in his eyes, making them a lighter shade of blue than they usually were. Dean’s heart sped up and it seemed unreal that a man this gorgeous would ever be interested in him. 

Dean gave into the overwhelming impulse to kiss Cas’s cheek. He leaned forward and tipped his head close, but the timing was completely off. Cas turned his head to say something just then, and Dean ended up awkwardly bumping their faces together. Both boys shifted back a little, surprised.

Dean let out a shaky laugh and Cas looked curiously at him, barely suppressing a smile. 

“Sorry. I swear I’m usually much smoother than that. I must be nervous,” he admitted, then immediately cursed himself for saying it out loud. How much further could he sink into lameness?

Cas smirked. “I make you nervous?”

Dean gave him a tiny nod and picked up one of his hands, laying it flat over his racing heart as proof. Cas’s eyes darkened and he leaned in agonizingly slow. 

“Good,” he said, inches away from Dean’s face. 

Dean let his eyes slip closed, expecting a kiss, but Cas huffed out a little laugh and stood up instead. He took his camera out of its case again and jogged once more towards the water to photograph the sinking sun. 

Dean shook his head and followed. This man was an unbelievable tease. The foamy edge of the water was cold on his feet, but he walked with Cas in silence, stopping to frame and snap the occasional photo. 

As the sun dipped lower, Dean slowly started to feel strange; almost anxious. He had known for a while that he was bisexual, what he hadn’t figured out yet was how to make sex with a guy good. More specifically, good for him. So far, the guys he had been with were rough, and enjoyed inflicting pain maybe a little more than they enjoyed bringing pleasure. It had involved very little prep and little to no lube, and had overall not been great experiences. They had left Dean feeling bruised and dirty, and he wasn’t looking forward to feeling that way after Cas. 

_You’re being an idiot Dean. You had a great night with a great guy and now you’re getting fussy over what? Sleeping with him? Yeah it’ll probably hurt like hell and once he’s been there and done that he’ll dump you, but give the guy what he wants._

Viscous back and forth thoughts circled Dean’s mind on their walk back. He absently accepted a ride home from Cas, and the drive was quiet except for the hum of the road. Cas smiled at him and placed his right hand on the centre console, palm up in a clear invitation. Dean fitted his hand into his and Cas laced their fingers together and squeezed lightly. This grounded Dean slightly and he made his decision. He would suck it up and do whatever Cas wanted. He would make him feel good because thats just what a good boyfriend would do. 

Cas pulled to the curb outside Deans apartment and both men stepped out of the car. 

“Would you like to come up for a beer?” Dean asked casually. 

“I’d love to Dean, but I have a shoot at 6 tomorrow morning and I’m going to hate myself if I don’t get some sleep,” Cas said, sounding genuinely sorry. 

“Oh,” Dean answered dumbly. Turns out he worried himself over nothing, and the realization left him feeling strangely empty. 

_He’s making up an excuse because he thought the date was lame and he doesn’t want to spend any more time with you. Dean’s brain supplied quickly._

Cas caught both of Dean’s hands and placed them on his hips. He pressed his body against Dean’s and rested his elbows over his shoulders, fingers running through his hair in a way that sent chills down Dean’s spine.

“I’d love to see you tomorrow though,” He said, warm breath ghosting over Dean’s skin.

Dean nodded. “The team is going out at 6 but I’ll be back home around 9.”

“Perfect, see you then,” Cas said brightly. He rested his forehead against Dean’s for a moment, then pulled away and stepped back into his car. 

Dean watched him drive off with a mix of feelings. Relief, longing, arousal, and something else he couldn’t quite put his finger on. He realized once he finally crawled into bed that they hadn’t even kissed. This was by far the most bizarre and confusing date he had ever been on, and he couldn’t wait for tomorrow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I spent some time mapping out where I want this story to go, and then I realized something; this isn't just about me anymore, there are my lovely readers along for the ride as well. I have scenes planned that fulfill all of my university AU desires, but I'd love to fulfill yours too! If there are scenes you are burning to see, or others you've seen before but are dying to read a million versions of, let me know and I'll work it in at some point. Love you all! 
> 
> P.S. Don't you dare have sex with anyone unless you want to. You don't owe anyone your time, your heart, and especially not your body.


	11. Deep Dish Pizza

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Double update coming up! Thank you for all your patience these last two weeks…I’ve been super distracted caring for all the Covid babies. Now I’m sick and stuck in bed because it turns out children like to look up at you under your visor and sneeze right into your eyeballs. In light of this, I’ve decided to do a 10 prompts in 10 days challenge and force myself to get the creativity going. I would really really appreciate your help, so if you have a prompt for me (literally about anything Supernatural related. I will also open it up to those in the Sherlock fandom) then please comment it below or DM it to my Instagram @oneofawall. Love you all and I can’t wait to hear from you!

Dean woke well before his alarm feeling rested and ready for the day. He went through his usual routine, a run, a shower, and a quick breakfast, then decided to get coffee from a shop on his way to school. The beauty of waking early was the luxury of time. 

He slipped on his shoes, swung his backpack over his shoulder, and locked the door behind him. There were a few coffee houses, but Dean preferred the dark cozy one halfway between his apartment and the school. Its front sign had fallen to pieces long before Dean had ever stepped foot into the shop, and he had never bothered to ask what the place was called. 

“One medium black,” Dean said politely to the quiet teen behind the counter.

“Two fifty,” the teen replied. Dean handed him three dollar bills and dropped his change into the tip cup on the counter. The teen handed him a steaming to go cup and Dean checked that the lid was on tight before he turned around and bumped straight into Charlie. The books she was holding toppled to the floor and Dean’s coffee miraculously didn’t spill.

“Oh my god! I didn’t see you there, I’m so sorry!” She said, crouching immediately to pick up her books. Dean kneeled down, grabbed the last one, and handed it to her.

“Dean!” Charlie said surprised. “What are you doing here?”

“I came to get a coffee,” Dean said, holding his cup up for a second.

“Oh. Of course. Obviously. I just meant I’ve never seen you here before and I’m here all the time.”

“Ah,” Dean nodded. “I’m usually a coffee at home man but today I felt like getting out early.”

Charlie smiled, set some cash down on the counter, and picked up the cup the teen had prepared for her. Dean watched the exchange with a small smile. It was weird to think people had their own totally separate lives; Charlie had her own routine down so solidly that she no longer had to order, the staff knew her already.

“Can I walk you to school?” Dean asked, gesturing to the door.

“I’d like that,” Charlie answered with a smile. They stepped out into the crisp morning air.

“How did your article turn out?”

“The one about the team? Spicy. I foresee a good season.”

Dean laughed. “Yeah I should hope so.”

“How are your classes going? I can’t even imagine the workload for forensics.”

“Eh its not so bad. I stay on top of it,” Dean answered, taking a sip of his coffee. 

Charlie hummed. “Yeah that seems like a good survival strategy.” 

They walked in comfortable silence until the school buildings came into view and Dean angled to walk towards his justice studies class. 

“See you around Dean,” Charlie waved.

“See you,” Dean waved back. He made his way to his lecture hall and pulled out a notebook. For the next two hours, he diligently took notes. It was an interesting class, probably one of Dean’s favourites, but by the time it was over, he was mentally exhausted and physically jittery. He grabbed a chicken sandwich from the cafeteria and ate it on his way to the change rooms. 

Dean brushed the crumbs off his hands and pulled his uniform out of his bag. He was early and nobody else was here yet, but he didn’t mind setting up for their usual pre-practice drills and maybe getting a few laps in first. 

He laced up his cleats and dragged a netted bag of soccer balls and one of pylons out from under the bleachers. Halfway through the setup, Kevin joined him on the field in uniform, ready to go. 

“Hiya Kev,” Dean greeted the awkward freshman.

“Hi Dean,” He smiled shyly and picked up a stack of pylons to help.

“How’s university treating you?”

“Oh its been going really well, I love it here,” Kevin answered, lighting up at the subject. 

Dean smiled and set down the last ball in its place. 

“I’m glad to hear that man.” He clapped Kevin on the shoulder. “Let us know if anything starts slipping. I know how intimidating the team is for a first year sometimes, but we’ve got your back. Seriously.” 

Kevin nodded and glanced to the side where Azazel, Hester, and Inas were jogging onto the field. 

“Looks like we’ve got a couple more keeners,” Dean chuckled. “May as well get started.” 

He began a quick round of stretching, then moved onto the first drill, some light footwork, followed by an agility course. Gordon, Richard, and Edgar joined in, closely followed by Benny, Henry, and Cole. The boys were fully warmed up, had run through several of the shorter drills, and were running a few laps when coach Mills appeared. 

She blew twice on her whistle and the team jogged into a loose circle around her. 

“You’re all eager today aren’t you?” She teased, a proud lilt to her voice. The boys didn’t answer, just continued breathing hard. 

“Well if you’ve already done a couple drills lets start with a scrimmage. Cole, Kevin, Inas, Henry, Richard, you’re team one, the rest of you, team two. Pick someone for kickoff and I’ll see you in the centre.” 

Dean held his arms out and his half of the team ducked together in a huddle. 

“Edgar, you wanna take this one?” Dean offered. Edgar nodded. “Lets try play 4, I’d like to see that one in practice.” The rest of the team seemed to agree. Edgar jogged to the centre line and the rest of the mini team got into position. 

Two hours, several scrimmages, and countless drills later, the boys did one last cool down lap around the field and were dismissed to the showers. 

Dean stepped out of the steam and towelled off, then quickly changed into clean shorts and a t-shirt and wandered back into the main change room area. Some of the boys were already finished showering and were waiting around. 

Dean nodded to Benny, who was sitting with his bag at his feet and his damp towel slung around his neck.

“Have we decided on a dinner spot?”

“The general consensus seems to be that new deep dish pizza place downtown,” Benny answered. “We were all going to drop our stuff off at home and meet there at 6.”

“Sounds good,” Dean said, checking his watch. It was almost 4 now, so he planned to walk home and get in an hour of studying before dinner. A study session probably wasn’t in keeping with a team bonding evening, but he wouldn’t be surprised if most of the guys would be doing the same thing. This was university after all, they had to keep their heads above the water somehow. 

“I’ll see you guys there then,” Dean said. Benny sent him a smile and nodded in acknowledgement, so Dean stepped out of the overheated change room and into the afternoon sun. 

The walk home was pleasant mostly due to the light breeze. October was nearing, and there was already a hint of chill in the air. 

He unlocked his door and thunked his bag onto the sofa, dropping to the ground and pulling out his laptop. He spent the first forty minutes on an assignment for his psychology class, read it through once, and submitted it. He decided then that he should probably read more of Gatsby, so he grabbed a beer from the fridge and settled onto the sofa to read. 

It was an interesting book, but Dean wondered what Gatsby had to prove by throwing all these elaborate parties. It seemed like a terrible waste of money to him. 

Twenty minutes later, a timer dinged on his phone, and he flipped the book upside down onto the couch so he could continue from where he was later. As he stood, his stomach gurgled and he realized how good a deep dish pizza would be right now. At some point in the near future he should probably worry about the amount of greasy foods he was eating, but now was not that time. 

He slid his phone into his back pocked and grabbed his wallet and keys on the way out. The walk downtown was short, maybe 20 minutes at most if he really lingered. He got to the pizza place and joined the team members hanging outside the doors in a loose group. Gordon swung an arm over his shoulders. 

“Man I’m so hungry I could eat six pizzas by myself right now,” He said, earning a scoff from Cole. 

“I’m so hungry I could eat at least eight.”

Hester shook his head. “I’d like to see either of you try.”

“You don’t think I could do it? Watch me H,” Gordon countered.

“I’m not saying you can’t, I’m saying you’d be a total pig if you did,” Hester teased. Gordon pushed off of Dean and launched himself at Hester, rubbing a fist in his hair and half laughing, half yelling taunts. 

Benny met Dean’s eye from his lean against the building and shook his head slowly in disbelief. Dean shrugged, having no explanation. If this team was their family, then he and Benny were not very good at keeping their kids in line. 

The last of the boys finally showed up and they went inside together. Inas politely requested a table for eleven and tried to smile reassuringly at the shocked looking hostess. She led them to a long table near the bar and a lanky waiter came by a few minutes later to take their orders. 

Dean found himself seated between Benny and Azazel. The table was soon covered in way too many pizzas, but the boys didn’t look daunted. They dug in and Dean found himself laughing over a foaming pint of beer at Gordon, who slowed his eating considerably after the sixth slice. 

Hester laughed and flicked an olive at him, which hit his neck and slid straight down his shirt. 

“You couldn’t even finish one pizza, where’s the boasting now?” 

Gordon wiggled, trying to shake the olive out. “Shut up dude, these things are so thick its like four stacked pizzas. This doesn’t count.” He got the olive out and flicked it back at Hester, but it missed by a mile and landed in an empty cup. The other end of the table found this very funny somehow and their laughter was so ridiculous Dean couldn’t help but join in. 

Eventually, by some miracle, nearly all of the pizza was polished off, and the boys were leaning back in their chairs, full and pleasantly buzzed. Dean pulled out his phone and smiled at the text alert from Cas. 

_Text me when you’re done and I’ll meet you at your place_

“Ouuuuuu, Dean’s got a girlfriend!” Azazel jeered loudly right by his ear. Dean clicked the phone off and jerked it away, but Azazel had already read what he needed. 

“Who is Cas? Cassidy? Cassandra? Casey?” He teased. The team joined in guessing and Dean shot a panicked look to Benny. Some of the boys knew he was bi, but he didn’t feel like outing himself in front of the rest of them like that. 

He put on a confident smirk instead. “Thats for me to know and you to wonder.”

The protest was instant. They teased, they begged, the pushed, but Dean kept a light unbothered mask on and didn’t say a word. 

Cole saved him by loudly clapping his hands together and standing. 

“I don’t know about you guys but I’m beat.” 

Benny stood as well and took some cash out of his pocket to leave on the table. “Thanks for a great night guys but I’m going to head out too. See you all next practice. Don’t forget about the away game on Saturday.”

The boys slowly followed suit and laid some cash on the table before they filtered out of the restaurant, each breaking off in groups of two or three to walk back home. 

Benny and Cole caught up to Dean and flanked him from either side. 

“Soooooo,” Cole began suggestively, wiggling his eyebrows. “Who is this Cas?”

Dean sighed dramatically, knowing there was no escape. “Castiel Novak. Its nothing serious. We went on a date yesterday and he’s coming over again tonight.”

“What?!” Cole asked in a far too screechy tone. Benny gave Dean a knowing smile but said nothing. 

“You’re telling me Dean. The actual Dean Winchester is going on two dates in a row with the same person?”

“Cole, I do go on dates you know.”

Cole laughed. “Yeah right man. When was the last time you spent a planned day with anyone instead of a one night stand?” 

“Uh, I just spend the whole afternoon with you guys.”

“Gross dude,” Cole shoved him off the sidewalk and stumbling onto the grass. Dean let out a short laugh and straightened back. “We don’t count. Besides you’re not my type.”

“Oh really?” Dean asked. “What’s your type?”

“I go for the curly haired blonde chicks with spunky attitudes. You’re not curly, blonde, or a chick. Although I dig the attitude. Sometimes.”

Benny rolled his eyes at Cole. 

“Glad to hear its going well Dean. Do I need to threaten him about breaking my brother’s heart yet?”

“Don’t you dare Benny. I told you, its not serious.”

Benny nodded, but his expression said he knew more than he was letting on. 

Dean pulled his phone out again and shot Cas a text. 

_Walking home now_

Cas responded with a smiley face seconds later. Was he waiting by his phone for Dean to text? The thought made him melt a little and he shot off another text before he could chicken out. 

_You can stay over tonight if you’d like_

He didn’t even have time to click his phone off before it buzzed with a response. 

_I would like that actually_

Dean grinned. This would be the perfect end to a really great day. He waved Cole and Benny off as they passed by his building, and bounded his way up the stairs.


	12. Castiel's Hoodie

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As promised, second update today! The movie portion of this chapter is inspired by a prompt from the lovely eyeslikewildflowers

Dean put on some soft rock music and twenty minutes later, Castiel stood in his doorway looking irresistible in sweatpants and a hoodie. 

“It got chilly outside,” Cas justified, lifting a sleeve covered hand in defence when he saw Dean staring. 

“I didn’t say anything Cas, you look cute as hell.” Dean said automatically. His brain caught up to his mouth a second later and he blushed, wondering if he had gone too far. 

Cas clearly liked the praise though because be dropped his backpack to the ground and enveloped Dean in a bear hug, hoodie and all. Dean cradled him close and inhaled the scent of his detergent, distinctly different from the one he used but incredibly intoxicating nonetheless. 

“I love this song!” Cas exclaimed, lifting his head out of the crook of Dean’s neck. Dean paused and smiled wide when he realized Back in Black was playing. Cas took hold of both his hands and tugged him further into the living room before twirling around and getting himself completely tangled in arms. He bopped to the music and sang the lyrics both horribly and loudly. 

Dean laughed and watched Cas jerk around, dancing perfectly on time but with moves that didn’t fit the music at all whatsoever. He met Dean’s eyes and pretended to tug him closer with an imaginary rope, still belting out the lyrics perfectly. 

What the hell..Dean thought, and allowed himself to be dragged into the horrible singing and dancing. Near the end of the song he whipped out his trusty air guitar and shredded some chords. Cas dissolved into a fit of laughter watching Dean lean back on his knees, completely in the zone. 

One song crashed into another and by the time the mix tape ended, the boys were sprawled on the floor, all danced out and gasping for breath between bouts of laughter. 

“Okay I’m definitely not cold anymore,” Cas managed to get out. 

Dean tipped his head to look at him and could have died then and there. His cheeks were flushed, his eyes were shining in the crappy living room lighting, and he looked happier than Dean had ever seen him. 

He didn’t think. It seemed that he never did much thinking around Cas. He just leaned down and dropped a kiss right on his full lips. Dean let it linger, a slow and soft thing, but when he went to pull away, Cas made the hottest little whining noise and tugged him back down by his hair. 

Dean surrendered to it, letting his lips part and the kiss deepen. Cas licked along his bottom lip and glided smoothly, teasingly, along his tongue. Dean barely held back a groan. He didn’t know where to put his hands and eventually settled on holding himself up with one and slipping the other under the hem of Cas’s sweatshirt. Cas moaned, completely unashamed to make noise, and it drove Dean wild. He pressed closer and bit gently on Cas’s lip. 

Cas pulled back slowly, languidly, and looked at Dean with glazed heavy eyes. His lips were red and swollen. 

“Oh my god,” Cas exhaled. “Now I’m too hot.” 

“Yes you definitely are,” Dean agreed cheekily, earning a swat on the arm. He leaned back and tugged Cas into a sitting position. 

“Can we just change into pyjamas?” Cas asked.

“Yeah that sounds doable,” Dean answered, leaning in one more time for a quick peck. He pulled away before Cas could hold him there and ducked into his room to change. 

By the time he stepped out in a pair of dark blue cotton lounge pants and a plain white t-shirt, Cas was in the kitchen, leaning against the counter in black and red flannel pants and a black v-neck. 

“So I was thinking. We need some sugar after all that exercise.”

Dean laughed, thinking that the dancing barely made up for the pizza he had just eaten, but he held his tongue because the gleam in Cas’s eyes made him curious as to what he had planned. 

“I brought cookie mix,” Cas said, holding up a pouch that promised chewy chocolate chip cookies.

“Well, what do I need to do first chef?” Dean asked with a smirk.

“First you need to kiss me again, then you need to preheat the oven to 350 degrees,” Cas answered, staring hard at the instructions on the back of the pouch. 

“It really says I need to kiss you?” Dean asked teasingly, snatching the pouch away from Cas.

“Yes of course. The cookies won’t be the same if you don’t,” Cas answered, desperately trying to grab the pouch back. 

Dean set it on the counter and gave Cas the briefest peck on the cheek before twisting away and turning the oven on. From somewhere behind him, Cas gasped and called him a cheater. Dean pulled a mixing bowl and a pan out from one of his cupboards. It was a miracle he even had these things, he didn’t cook very often. 

Cas tore the pouch open and dumped the mixture inside too quickly, making a little mushroom cloud of flour.

“Careful! The cleaning crew isn’t at your beck and call!” Dean teased. 

“I didn’t even make a mess!” Cas protested. “It all floated back down into the bowl, see?” He stepped aside to show Dean, who hummed in mock disapproval. Cas squinted. 

“Well then if thats what you call a mess then whats this?” He asked cheekily before he took a pinch of the powder and smeared it on Dean’s cheek. 

Dean froze. “Oh you’re going to regret that.” He lunged for the bowl but Cas grabbed it and darted out of his way into the living room. He held it up over the stereo threateningly. 

“Okay wait wait. I’m sure we can come to some sort of agreement,” Dean begged, hands in the air. 

“Yes I’m sure we can,” Cas agreed coyly. 

“What are your terms?”

“Hmmm,” Cas stalled. “I want full rights to 75% of the cookies baked tonight.”  
“What?!” Dean answered, appalled. “That is way to high a price. Fifty and thats the highest I’ll go.”

“Sixty.”

“Fifty five.”

Cas tipped the bowl a couple degrees to the side, making Dean’s eyes widen. 

“Okay okay sixty.”

Cas smirked. “Deal. Now go measure out half a cup of oil and water and help me mix this stuff up.”

“Yes chef,” Dean rolled his eyes glumly. Turns out he didn’t have a measuring cup, but they eyeballed it and the consistency of the dough turned out fine. Ten minutes later the cookies had been rolled into balls on the pan and placed in the oven with a timer. 

“What now?” Cas asked.

“Up to you. We could put on a show or something.”

“Can we give Game of Thrones another go?” Castiel asked, almost shyly.

“Yeah of course Cas,” Dean answered. He wandered back into the living room and got the first episode ready to go. He stood to join Cas on the couch when he realized he hadn’t offered him anything to drink yet. His mother would have been so disappointed in his hospitality skills. It was evening, so he wanted to offer a beer, but the cookies were almost ready, and who the hell drinks beer with chocolate chip cookies? 

“Milk or beer?” Dean asked, deciding to leave the choice up to Castiel.

Cas scrunched his nose. “uhhh. Milk. Who the hell has cookies and beer?” 

Dean laughed and pulled two clean cups off the drying rack, filling them with milk and setting them down on the coffee table. A few minutes into the episode, the oven timer chimed and Dean grabbed a dish towel and took the pan out of the oven. He balanced it over the sink and wondered vaguely when he would decide to buy one of those heat protectant counter thingies for hot pans. He scraped the cookies onto a plate with a spatula and ceremoniously offered the plate to Cas, who took a gooey cookie and blew on it gently to cool it down. 

Dean also took a cookie and bit straight into it. The sweetness burst on his tongue and the melted chocolate was heavenly. Cas smiled at his reaction. 

“I told you that kiss was a vital ingredient.” 

Dean hummed in agreement and settled back to watch the episode. Cas copied the motion, close enough to Dean that he could feel the warmth of his skin, but not close enough to actually be touching. 

Turns out the proximity was incredibly distracting. Dean found himself listening for each of Castiel’s breaths, hyperaware of every minute movement. Cas was quickly absorbed into the episode, but Dean was only watching Cas watch it. His subtle facial expressions were fascinating. Every flick of his eyes drew Dean another millimetre closer. When Cas’s tongue darted out to swipe away an invisible smear of chocolate, Dean’s insides went wild. 

He was so focused on Cas that when the episode ended and the screen went dark, he actually jumped slightly in surprise. In the moonlight filtering in through the balcony door, he could barely see Cas smirk knowingly at him. 

Dean could see the faint outline of Cas’s hand as it came up to cradle his cheek. He allowed himself to be drawn closer until he was pressed tight against Cas, who trailed his hand down Dean’s jaw, neck, across his shoulder, down his chest, and caught his hand that was loosely curled in his lap. 

He drew the hand up and kissed Dean’s knuckles. It was such a simple gesture, but the intimacy of it made Dean blush. Cas smiled slowly and brushed his next kiss on Dean’s jaw, then his cheek, then finally his lips. 

This kiss was nothing like the one earlier. It was long, drawn out, in no hurry at all. Cas still tasted faintly of sugar and Dean savoured that taste, chasing it for minute after minute. Who knows how much time had passed, it could have been hours before Cas gently pulled away. 

“We should probably go to bed,” He whispered in the dark, head tipped to lean against Dean’s.

“Will you sleep in my room?” Dean asked, a little cautiously. 

“If you want me to,” Cas answered, pulling back to look into Dean’s eyes and gauge his reaction. 

“I do,” Dean said firmly, squashing down the tendril of fear that rose when he realized Cas probably wanted sex before bed. He wasn’t completely opposed to the idea, but his body was exhausted and he really didn’t feel like going through that kind of pain right now. 

Cas stood and held a hand out to Dean, who took it and allowed himself to be led into his room. Cas waited until Dean settled down on his usual side of the bed, then he crawled in behind him and curled himself against Dean’s back, hand going over his waist to pull him closer. 

Dean tried to turn but Cas raised his head to look down at him. 

“We can’t have sex with our clothes on Cas,” Dean explained after a few seconds of Castiel’s questioning stare. 

“Who said anything about sex?” Cas asked mildly. “I mean maybe eventually, but tonight I’d just like to hold you. If thats alright,” Cas added after a pause. 

Dean was once again taken aback. How did this guy even exist in real life? He felt a weight lift off his chest, and snuggled back closer to Castiel. 

“Yeah, thats more than alright Cas,” Dean breathed out. He fell asleep to the sound of even breathing and fingers dancing rhythmically over his stomach.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As mentioned in the previous chapter notes, I'm going to be doing a 10 prompts in 10 days challenge and am open to prompts either Supernatural or Sherlock related. Feel free to comment your brilliant (or silly or fluffy or angsty or whump or steamy or etc.) ideas below or DM them to my Instagram @oneofawall. Stay safe!


	13. Can't Stop Kissing

Dean woke very reluctantly to the light trill of his alarm. He shut it off and glared, bleary eyed at the time. 

5:15

Dammit, he totally forgot about his gym shift today. He looked back to where Cas was sprawled over the rest of the bed, still sleeping deeply. For a wild moment, he debated calling in sick and laying in bed all morning with that glorious body, but the thought of his bottomed out bank account got the best of him and he dragged himself upright. 

Cas didn’t stir, so Dean quietly grabbed his freshly packed athletic bag and slipped out of the room. He would leave him a note and a spare key to lock the door behind him if he had to leave. 

Dean brushed his teeth and dressed in the bathroom, then made a quick cup of coffee and ate a banana on his walk to the gym. The morning workout class he taught that day was small, but the group was way too energetic and Dean was sweating by the end of it. He wiped down the equipment and ducked back into the main area to meet with a one on one client. 

He had three more personal training sessions lined up for that morning, and by the time he finished, he was itching to call Cas. He forced himself to shower and change before pulling out his phone. His heart leapt at the sight of a text from Cas.

I missed you this morning (:

Dean’s fingers hovered over the keyboard, debating what to type. 

Sorry I had to go..  
My shift is over now if you want to hang out

Cas’s response came just as Dean stepped outside.

Of course I want to hang out. Actually I have a surprise for you when you get home

Dean’s heart leapt in his chest and he may or may not have picked up the pace. He took the steps two at a time and when he exited on the landing for his floor, a thick smell of garlic and herbs hit him. He unlocked his door to find Cas stirring something on the stove and bopping to the blasting music. 

Dean stood transfixed in the doorway, a strange feeling curled warmly in the pit of his stomach. Within a few weeks, this man had wriggled his way into his life in such a pleasant way and he seemed comfortable there. So comfortable that he spent the night and didn’t bolt first thing in the morning. 

Dean had the insane urge to just go up to him and kiss him and never stop, but he couldn’t get his feet to move. This seemed like a dream, and if he breathed the wrong way Cas would evaporate and he would wake up.

Cas must have sensed his presence because he turned around, sauce covered spoon in hand, and grinned widely.

“Dean!” He greeted, barely audible over the music. Dean held up a finger and dropped his bag down on his way to quiet the music enough so they could talk. Cas followed him with the sauce filled spoon.

“Taste this?” He asked sweetly, holding it in front of Dean with one hand and holding his other under the spoon in case the sauce dripped.

Dean tentatively took a bit of the pale sauce and an earthy flavour exploded in his mouth. 

“Wow, that’s….really good.”

Cas ducked his head at the praise, walking back to the kitchen and rinsing the spoon in the sink.

“How was work?”

“It was fine, I taught a class and then had a couple one on one clients.”

Cas nodded, tipped a strainer full of cooked pasta into the saucepan, and stirred it in carefully. 

“You really didn’t have to make lunch Cas.”

“I wanted to.” Cas answered immediately. He lifted the saucepan by the plastic handle and carried it to the table that Dean hadn’t even noticed was set for two. Cas took the dishtowel that was slung over his shoulder and folded it on the table before setting the pan down. 

“And lunch is served,” Cas said elaborately. 

Dean stepped towards him as if drawn magnetically and wound his arms around his neck. Cas immediately tugged Dean closer by the small of his back and placed a tiny kiss on the tip of his nose. Dean’ stomach swooped. It was so easy to initiate and maintain contact when Cas welcomed it so openly. 

“Come on, I’m sure you’re starving,” Cas said after a few long moments. He tugged Dean into a chair and scooped generous servings of pasta onto both their plates. 

Dean stabbed his fork around until it was loaded up with pasta coated in the herby green sauce. He chewed and swallowed quickly before asking his next question.

“What are your plans for the day?”

“I brought some homework with me if you want to study but other than an assignment I have to hand in tonight I have nothing on.”

Dean nodded. “Studying sounds good. Do you want to stay here? I know my place is small. We can go to the library or something if you’d prefer.”

Cas shook his head quickly. “I love it here. Its…cozy.”

Dean gave Cas a small smile back and they finished lunch in comfortable silence. He stacked both plates and the pan together and took them straight to the sink to wash them. 

Cas turned on the stereo and set the music low, then pulled his books and laptop out and spread them over the floor. Dean dried his hands on a dish towel and ducked into his room for his laptop before joining Cas on the rug.

Cas rolled over and bumped right into Dean. “What are you gonna work on?”

“I was going to do my write up for my mock crime scene course,” Dean answered, trying to keep his words steady. It was hard with Cas pressed all along his side, warmth seeping through his clothes and the intoxicating scent of his skin filling his nose. 

Cas hummed and pressed a kiss to Dean’s shoulders before dramatically rolling back and opening his laptop. An hour, then two trickled by and Dean steadily typed away. Cas was laser focused each time Dean snuck a look at him, which made him wonder if his presence was affecting Cas at all. He got confirmation ten minutes later when Cas thunked his laptop shut and stretched out on the ground. 

“Have you handed it in?” 

“Ugh yes. I’m very glad its over. Are you ready for a break?”

“Cas I’m always ready for a break.”

Cas huffed. “No Dean, finish your work first. I will not be the distraction that causes you to fail a course.”

Dean shook his head quickly and sat up. “I’m pretty much finished, I’ll read it through one more time before tomorrow and hand it in.”

Cas smirked. “Well in that case, I think you should take a break.” He draped himself over Dean’s crossed legs and looked up at him. 

“How should I spend it?” Dean asked, running his hands as far down Cas’s chest as he could reach. 

“WelI don’t know about you but I worked so hard, I really should get a reward,”

“Ha. Okay Cas, what do you want?”

“Mmmm” Cas smirked, debating. “I think you should kiss me until I can’t breathe anymore,”

“That sounds like more of a punishment than a reward Cas,” Dean teased.

“Do your worst,” Cas answered defiantly. Dean couldn’t handle that smug look on his upside down face. He slid out from under him and threw a leg over his waist, a knee on either side of Cas, caging him in. Dean dragged his hands from Cas’s waistband and slowly up his chest, his neck, and buried them in his hair, tugging softly. He leaned down, sinuously slow, and pressed a feather light kiss to Cas’s breathless mouth. 

He ground his hips down and was unsurprised to find a quickly hardening line meet his own. What surprised him was his own want. He wanted Cas in his hand. In his mouth. Anywhere. 

Cas’s tongue danced across Dean’s lip and he deepened the kiss, drawing out a low sound. He let his teeth scrape over Cas’s open mouth and teased another sound from him, gliding his tongue and rolling his hips again. 

Dean broke the kiss to come up for a breath and Cas grinned wildly up at him for half a second before curling his fingers into Dean’s hair and dragging him back down. 

Dean was going to burst out of his skin. He needed more. He needed their shirts off at least. Hell, he needed everything off. He let go of Cas’s thick dark hair and trailed his fingers down his sides, slipping them up and under his shirt. 

The skin there was hot, probably flushed and wanting along with the rest of him. Dean smirked against Cas’s lips and pinched a nipple, making Cas yelp in surprise. Dean let a hand slide lower and rest on Cas’s waistband before he broke away, silently asking Cas for permission. Cas breathed hard for a moment, but was saved from answering by Dean’s phone ringing obnoxiously loud, startling both men. 

Dean leaned down for another kiss, fully intending to ignore whoever was calling, but the ringing continued. Cas turned his head away. 

“You’d better get that.”

Dean groaned and sat reluctantly up. He tried to reach for his phone without getting up off of Cas, but it was too far away and he lost his balance, ending up sprawled on the floor. Cas let out a short laugh, shutting his mouth with a snap when Dean glared and him and jabbed at the screen to accept the call.

“What,” Dean said in greeting, trying not to sound as breathless as he felt. 

“Uh, hi Dean,” Sam answered from the other line. “Are you busy?”

“A little, yeah,” Dean said. Cas crawled closer and sat beside him, leaning against his arm. 

“Were you out running? You sound out of breath. Is everything okay?”

“I wasn’t running Sammy but I was definitely just about to do a different kind of workout,” Dean answered with unbridled sass. If he was trying to horrify his brother into hanging up, who could blame him?

It took Sam a couple of seconds to respond, time in which Cas nudged Dean in the ribs. Dean nudged him back. 

“Gross dude! Don’t answer the phone when you’re naked!” Cas muffled a laugh at that.

“Well don’t call when I’m nak-“ Dean cut off when Cas clamped a hand over his mouth. 

“I’ll call you back later Dean. Or you call me whenever,” Sam said quickly. 

“Bye.” Dean answered once Cas freed his mouth. Sam had barely hung up before Cas pressed a hard hiss to his mouth. He pulled away far too quickly for Dean’s liking. 

“Was that your brother?”

Dean sighed, the mood well and truly killed at the second mention of Sam. “Yeah. We check in every couple days. He’s back home finishing his last year of high school and then he’ll probably apply for law somewhere.”

Cas huffed. “That sounds intense. Probably a smart kid then.”

“Oh yeah. Smartest person I know. Although don’t tell him that, I can’t let it get to his head.”

Cas smiled, but there was a sad look in his eyes. “Sounds like you’re his dad more than his brother when you talk like that.”

Dean shrugged. “The lines were always a little blurred I guess.”

Cas tipped his head to the side questioningly. 

“I mean, our dad was a raging alcoholic. Mom spent a lot of her time working since he couldn’t hold a steady job, and I was usually caring for Adam and Sam or protecting them from dad’s latest rampage.” Dean cut himself off and shot a horrified look at Cas. 

“Sorry. I swear I didn’t mean to get all dark.”

“Dean,” Cas exhaled. “Never apologize for opening up. I’m here and I value everything you choose to share with me, good or bad.” 

Dean held Cas’s steady look, trying to unravel what he meant, but found nothing to indicate he was lying or making fun of him. Cas looked out the window and swore softly. Dean followed his gaze and saw that the sun was starting to set.

“I’ve gotta get home. I have classes and photo shoots back to back all day tomorrow and I need to prepare some things.”

Dean nodded and stood, then reached down to help Cas up. 

“How’s your schedule the day after?”

“I don’t think I have anything on. Why do you ask?” Cas answered, sounding hopeful.

“Well,” Dean started nervously, following Cas around as he efficiently packed his things back into his bag. “We’ve got an away game about two hours from here and I was thinking it would be nice for you to be there. Its kinda later in the afternoon and the team is probably going to go downtown after. You don’t have to come if you don’t want to, I know its kinda far.”

“I’d love to Dean,” Cas interrupted with a wide grin. 

“I’ll text you the details then.” Dean answered, relieved. 

Cas swung his bag over his shoulder and scanned the room to see if he had forgotten anything. Dean was surprised to find he didn’t want him to go. Cas wound Dean up into a hug and buried his face in the crook of his neck. Dean could feel him inhale deeply.

“I enjoyed spending time with you Dean. I wish Saturday was now so I didn’t have things to do,” Cas said bluntly. Dean squeezed him closer for a second before Cas let go and stepped out the door. He disappeared down the hallway with one final wave. Dean turned back inside and sighed. The apartment already felt too empty.


	14. Whiskey and walking

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes my writing consists of me, up at 4am, muttering abuse at my computer while adding another shot of whiskey to my stone cold coffee. Other times I zone out and when I come back, there are 10,000 words and I can’t say for sure if it was me that wrote them because I don’t remember any of it. The next few chapters are of the second type.

Dean finished editing his assignment by 10, and prepared both his lunch and his bag for tomorrow. It was late enough to excusably go to bed, so he changed into pyjamas and crawled under the covers. He inhaled deeply, pleasantly surprised that the pillows still smelled like Cas. He set his alarm for 6 the next morning, and was so exhausted that he dropped off to sleep within minutes. He had barely nodded off before the nightmares gripped him. 

_Dean thunked his head against the back wall of the closet and squeezed the hands he was holding; one Sam’s, the other Adam’s. The brothers huddled close under the coats hanging above them. The air was thick and Dean could barely breathe, but they didn’t dare make a sound. Adam’s little body jumped when a door slammed. Dean pulled him to his chest and placed a hand tightly over his mouth, knowing if John found them while he was in this state, there would be hell to pay. He felt Sam snake an arm over his chest to squeeze Adam’s shoulder. From somewhere among the coats, something small and scaly dropped down onto his neck. He squirmed away but didn’t dare move and make noise. Another crawled over his bare foot and up Adam’s leg. His brother’s scream was muffled by his hand, but that soft noise was enough._

_John tore open the door and Dean squinted in the harsh flood of light. His father gripped him by the shirt and wretched him upright, giving him a good shake before bellowing something so loud Dean didn’t even hear words, just noise. He was thrown to the ground and the first kick landed somewhere in the softness of his belly before his mind cleared enough for him to curl up and protect it. He tried to stay quiet and not scream out in pain, knowing if he made too much noise Sam would come out of the closet and interfere, which was always so much worse. Dean would do this all day, every day if it meant neither of his brothers would get hit again, but the fact was that his dad would hit whoever he could find until he got bored or tired, and there wasn’t much anyone could do about it._

Dean was awake and in a cold sweat for a few horrifying moments before he realized he had been dreaming.

No. Not dreaming. 

Remembering. 

He heaved and barely made it to the bathroom before he emptied the contents of his stomach in the toilet. He gripped the cool porcelain as he continued to heave long after there was nothing left to come up. 

Dean squeezed his eyes shut and tried to think of something else, anything else, but the memory of his father was too loud and too violent. He stood on shaky legs and cupped some water from the sink to rinse out his mouth. The water he spit back out was tinged red and he realized with some disgust that he must have bitten his cheek while clenching his teeth in his sleep.

Stupid abusive childhood. He was fully grown now and still couldn’t get away.

He had to get out of here. He had to get outside. Somewhere loud. He didn’t want to think anymore, and he desperately needed a strong drink. 

Dean shakily changed into a pair of jeans and a plain sweater before grabbing his wallet and phone. The air was cold and nipped at his face on his walk to the bar, but Dean welcomed the distraction. He would do whatever it took to get himself out of his mind and body for the night. 

The bar was loud; music blaring, people, mostly students, dancing and talking loudly over the noise. Dean went straight to the bar, claimed a stool, and dropped a fifty on the table. 

“Whiskey. Keep them coming,” he said shortly to the bartender, who pulled out three shot glasses from under the bar and filled them. Dean knocked back two and slid them away, cradling the third. 

“Someone’s in a mood.”

Dean turned his head, prepared to give his best glare, but was taken aback slightly at the sight of Charlie. She had curled her long red hair and must have done her makeup a little more heavily because her eyes were much more defined. 

“Wanna talk about it?” Charlie asked, taking a pull from her beer. 

Dean shook his head. “I’m fine.” He drank the third shot in one mouthful and the bartender filled all three again. 

Charlie nodded slowly, making it painfully obvious that she didn’t believe him. 

“What are you doing here?”

“Eh. Half work half pleasure. I’m writing a piece on the different atmospheres in the bars near campus and also trying to pick up a hot chick.”

Dean’s brain skipped a beat, absorbing the new information. “Got it,” he nodded, bumping her shoulder with his. “I guess I’ve got more competition than I thought huh?”

Charlie let out a short laugh and flicked a red curl back over her shoulder. “Dean, you always have more competition than you think.” She winked and Dean felt his mood lift a little. 

“I wouldn’t have expected to see you here. You seem more like a laid back bar kind of guy. This place is basically a club,” she said, leaning out of the way of a sweating couple that drifted from the dance floor to the bar for a drink. 

“I picked the first place I saw,” Dean answered darkly, tipping back two more shots one after another. 

“So,” he clapped his hands together, head pleasantly fuzzy. “I guess I’m your wingman huh? See anyone you like?”

Charlie scanned the crowd. “That brunette in the corner is smoking.”

Dean followed her gaze to the short curvy girl leaning casually against the edge of a booth table. 

“Go say hi,” he urged. 

“Naw I’m fine,” she said quickly. Dean might have believed her except that she couldn’t seem to tear her eyes away from the girl. The brunette gave her a small shy wave and Charlie shifted in her seat.

“Go,” Dean repeated. 

“I am not ditching you like this Dean,” she said firmly. 

“I’ll be completely fine. This isn’t my first time drinking,” he informed her. 

“Are you sure?”

“Charlie I swear if you don’t leave now I will pick you up and deliver you to her myself.”

“Alright alright. Hey text me if you need anything Dean.” She held out her phone with a blank contact sheet and Dean typed in his number before handing it back to her. She send him a message and he felt his phone vibrate in his pocket. Charlie gave him one last smile and faded into the crowd.

Dean tipped back his last shot and shook his head when the bartender held up the bottle again. The noise of the crowd definitely did its job distracting him, but now with his mind so clouded, it seemed to press into him from all sides. He scraped his chair back and walked straight outside into the fresh air. 

There wasn’t much thought involved. Dean kind of just picked a direction and started walking. He felt fuzzy enough that his thoughts filtered through as facts with no emotions attached to them. It felt like hours of wandering, but the night air felt refreshing, cleansing almost. 

Somehow, he ended up at the beach. 

Dean sat down heavily on the night chilled sand. He watched, glazed, as the water rolled in and out. The sky had faded into a pale peach colour and Dean watched the horizon, waiting for the sun. He wondered vaguely how time had passed so quickly. He must have walked further than he thought. 

The long walk had drained away most of his tipsy fog, and despite his best efforts, Dean’s mind still drifted back to thoughts about his dad. He didn’t want to hate him. He actually tried really hard not to. Part of him believed it was completely unfair to think bad things about a dead man, but the other part was still somewhat hurt about everything that had passed between them. 

Dean remembered vividly the sheer terror of opening the front door and never knowing what would be behind it. He remembers the bone deep exhaustion after staying awake and alert all night, listening to his father yell at his mom and trying to hear for sounds of a beating so he could go in and intervene. He remembers the pain of being told he was worthless, useless, couldn’t get a single thing right. 

But at the same time, he also remembers the clearer moments when his dad would pull him outside and show him how to change a tire, fix an engine, clean the brakes. He remembers the very early days of kicking a soccer ball in the front yard and having someone cheer him on and teach him the rules. 

That seemed so long ago now. He wondered where the time had gone and what went wrong along the way. It was hard to sort out his emotions. When his father was alive, he respected him out of fear. Every order, every suggestion, was followed immediately. He would spend hours trying to think ahead and anticipate, because if his father thought he should have done something and it wasn’t done, that was already enough to warrant a good beating. Dean was always terrified, always maximally stressed, but he got so good and putting on a mask. He became a safe spot for both Adam and Sam, even his mother when she would allow it. Nothing got to him, he never rebelled, was always calm and helpful on the outside. 

Now, years later, it seems all that time of repression was coming back to bite him in the ass. He never struggled with nightmares before the crash. He always did what he had to do and got on with it. It was stupid for all these twisted things to come back and haunt him now of all times, when he was completely safe and actually fairly happy. 

He sighed heavily and pushed all the negative thoughts to the back of his mind. Pushing everything aside had worked his whole life, and it would be good enough now. 

Dean dug his fingers into the sand and found a flat smooth stone. He wiped the grains off and stood to toss it into the water. It skipped three, then four times and dropped down with a plunk that was mostly drowned out by the waves. 

There was a tiny sliver of sun visible and Dean decided from far off that he should probably get home and grab his schoolbag before classes started. He took his time on both the walk home and the walk to campus, and by the time he made it to his forensic biology lecture, he was only ten minutes early. He pulled out his phone to text Benny.

_Ready for tomorrow?_

One by one or in small groups, other students trickled in. 

_Pumped actually. Wanna get lunch?_

Dean sighed, exhaustion and maybe the beginnings of a slight hangover hitting him. 

_Sure. Burger Heaven at 1?_

The professor stepped up to the podium and Dean opened a blank document on his laptop to take notes. At some point during the lecture, Benny confirmed the lunch plan, but Dean didn’t answer. He was too busy focusing on what the professor was saying; so focused in fact that her words lost all their meaning and became just noise. He scrawled down some dates here and there but overall his notes were spotty enough that he would need to read through the textbook to figure out what the hell was taught in the last two hours. 

His mock crime scene class didn’t go much better, but at least he had handed in his assignment the night before so he didn’t feel too horrible about having nothing to contribute. By the time the end of class rolled around, Dean felt nauseous, and he didn’t know if it was the hangover, lack of sleep, lack of food, dehydration, or the complete and crushing sadness he couldn’t seem to shake. He made the short walk to the burger joint and resolved to put on a brave face for Benny. No point worrying him about something he couldn’t fix. Especially not so close to their first big game of the season. 

The bell over the door dinged when Dean entered. Benny had claimed a table in the middle of the sparse dining area and stood when he saw Dean approach. 

“Hey brother!” He clapped Dean on the back.

“Hey Ben, how’s it going?” Dean answered, grateful for the moment his face was tucked behind Benny’s shoulder. It gave him a brief pause to compose himself again. 

“Starving, what took you so long?”

Dean frowned and checked his watch. “Dude I’m eight minutes early.”

“Well then time must flow differently when you’re hungry because according to my watch, you’re late.”

Dean looked down at Benny’s wrists, neither of which was sporting a watch. 

“I hope you don’t mind, I went ahead and ordered the usual,” Benny said, sitting down across from Dean once more. 

“Aw Benny, you’re such a good mother,” Dean teased. All jokes were forgotten a couple seconds later when two trays with wrapped burgers and piled fries arrived. Dean nodded thanks to the server and both men dug right in. Halfway through his burger, Benny paused and fixed Dean with an even look. 

“Are you alright?”

Dean chewed slowly and swallowed, nodding. Benny squinted at him but didn’t push, which Dean was endlessly thankful for. He really did not deserve such a good friend. Heck, he didn’t deserve any friends, but especially not a guy like Benny.

“Wanna come over and study?” Benny asked, typing something on his phone with one hand as he shoved in a mouthful of fries with the other.

“You know we never get any studying done if Cole is around,” Dean protested. He didn’t quite know why he said that because honestly, it didn’t matter if they studied or not. He was up to date in all courses and the only thing he would have worked on was reviewing the day’s lectures. 

“He went out with a couple of the boys. Some of the fresh blood wanted to run a few drills before tomorrow and you know how antsy Cole gets before a game. They’ll probably be out there all evening just kicking the ball around.”

Dean shrugged. “I guess we can if you want to.”

Benny nodded, but held Dean’s gaze searchingly. The attention made him squirm so he crumpled up his trash and stood abruptly to throw it out. Benny picked up his tray and followed suit. 

Once they stepped outside, Dean sighed heavily into the warmth of the late September sunlight. From the corner of his eye, he saw Benny watching him again. 

“Duse, do I have something on my face?” He asked, slightly defensive.

“No.” Benny answered immediately, then hesitated, taking a few longer strides so he could turn and walk backwards to look at Dean. 

“Are you sure you’re okay?”

Dean nodded, more exaggerated this time. Benny turned to walk forwards again without saying anything. The silence was only a little awkward, but Dean couldn’t figure out why Benny was acting strangely. There was clearly something he wanted to say. Belatedly, he realized he probably still smelled like booze despite having changed in the morning. He cursed himself for not having taken a pack of gum or something with him. 

They entered the residence building and made their way to Benny’s apartment. Dean relaxed significantly when the door clicked behind them. The apartment looked the same as always, neat, yet cozy. 

In the warmth, the sleepless night seemed to finally catch up with Dean and he was hit with a strong wave of exhaustion. Benny sighed. 

“Yeah, fine my ass.” He walked into his bedroom and Dean followed him, completely confused as he watched him pull out a pair of sweatpants and drop them on the bed.

“Get some sleep Dean. I’ll be at the counter studying.”

“What? Benny I’m fine. I’ll study with you,” Dean answered hurriedly, despite the strong current of exhaustion that seemed to seep the life out of his bones. 

“Dean,” Benny trailed off.

“I’m fine. Seriously.”

“You’ve said that so many times already that nobody believes you now. Especially not me.” Benny explained gently. “You look like you haven’t slept all night, which, knowing you, is a strong possibility. If you won’t do it for you, then do it for me. For the team. You need to be rested for tomorrow.”

Dean looked darkly into his friend’s eyes, but it didn’t take a degree to realize he wouldn’t win this fight. Maybe he shouldn’t win this fight. Benny was right after all. He wasn’t fine, and he did need to rest at some point. He deflated all at once. 

“Okay.”

Benny nodded, satisfied, and opened his books on the counter, back to Dean.

Dean entered Benny’s room, not bothering to close the door. He would feel safer if he heard the soft noises of another person in the teeny apartment. Heck, maybe he would luck out and not even have any dreams. The thought seemed so wishful that Dean almost smiled as he shucked off his jeans and pulled on Benny’s sweatpants instead. 

He was asleep before he had even properly settled into the pillow.


	15. Away game

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so a couple things;  
> 1\. This chapter is twice as long as any of the previous ones, so merry early Christmas/snowy month/whatever floats your boat  
> 2\. For the life of me I cannot remember what that temperature thingy for the shower water is called so I just called it the water dial, which I'm 99% sure is wrong but I can't remember the real word so please help.  
> 3\. I do not often write steamy things so I'd appreciate your feedback on this one  
> 4\. Love you all! Stay safe and sane!

Dean thundered down the field in close pursuit of an opposing player. The man was keeping the ball - very frustratingly - just outside of Dean’s reach. He wove through Inas and Kevin with some quick footwork and kicked hard. The ball sailed through the air and Dean watched as Richard dove for it, catching it with a firm bump against his chest. 

Dean slowed to a stop and leaned heavily with his hands on his knees, panting. They were up by one point, but the other team was fighting tooth and nail to even things out again. Cole gave him a slap on the shoulder as he jogged by, and just like that the action was on again. 

Dean bolted down the field to receive a wobbly pass from Henry. He was instantly caged in on all sides. It was a dirty trick, but at this point, Dean wasn’t thinking about playing nice, he was focused on not losing their advantage. He stepped over the ball and kicked it in a high rainbow over both his head and the loose circle of players around him. 

The ball dropped near Cole, who wasted no time in weaving it the rest of the way down the field. He feigned a pass to Azazel and kicked the ball sharply towards Edgar, who sent sailing towards the top corner of the net. The opposing goalie leapt up and snatched it from the air. 

On his next run down the field, Benny briefly caught Dean’s gaze. His eyes looked exhausted but he was grinning like a madman. 

The opposition was vicious and there wasn’t a single lull in the game. By the time the final buzzer sounded, Dean barely had enough energy to celebrate the win. The visitor side of the stands erupted in cheers and thundering applause. 

Dean jogged back into the crush of the team huddle and yelled out random encouragements over the noise.

After a mostly professional handshake like with the opposition, the team jogged off the field and huddled loosely around Coach Mills.

“Good game boys,” She started, clapping Hester on the back. Gordon grinned at her. 

“Go on and kiss your girlfriends and we’ll meet back at the bus in fifteen.” She was to the point, as always. Dean knew from her smile that she was proud, but he also knew from her scrawled clipboard that she would have notes for them in more detain at their next practice. 

The boys wasted no time, most of them jogged straight off the field to find whoever it was that came to cheer them on. Dean found himself walking towards the stands and looking for Cas. He was so focused on scanning the crowd that he didn’t notice someone was running towards him until he was nearly plowed down. 

“Dean you were amazing!” Cas said loudly. He grabbed Dean’s face and kissed him hard on the lips. 

“Cas!” Dean said excitedly once he was released from the man’s death grip. “I’m all sweaty and gross,” he laughed, trying to push Cas away. 

Cas was having none of it. He hugged Dean closer and leaned in. “Maybe I like you sweaty,” he whispered into Dean’s ear. And okay. That of all things shouldn’t have made a sudden heat pool in Dean’s stomach. Cas tossed back his head and laughed, probably because Dean was blushing. 

“When did you get here?”

“About two hours before the game started? I didn’t want to bug you before because I know teams like to do bond before a big game.”

Dean rolled his eyes. “You should have texted, they wouldn’t have minded if you came to hang out at the hotel. We’re staying the night by the way. Coach wanted us to relax someplace nice or whatever,” Dean explained, suddenly wondering if it was weird to kick Benny out of the room and kidnap Cas instead. 

“Oh great! I booked a room nearby just in case it got too late to drive back,” Cas said with a relieved grin. 

“Well we’re heading back now to shower and change, then probably taking a walk downtown to get dinner. Care to join?”

“I’d love to,” Cas smiled. He threaded his fingers with Dean’s and tugged him towards the parking lot where the bus was waiting. 

“Do you want a ride to the hotel Dean?”

He looked up at the bus, which was already half full with the team and completely full with noise. 

“Oh. Never mind you probably should be with your team celebrating.” Cas awkwardly ran his free hand through his hair. 

“Sorry Cas,” Dean answered. “We’re staying at the Grand Point if you wanna come straight there though. Benny and I are in room 208, you could hang out while we get ready.”

Cas’s face lit up. “That’s where I’m staying too!” 

“Well great,” Dean said with a flutter in his chest. “Meet you there?”

“Yes,” Cas said firmly. He leaned in for another kiss, and Dean immediately closed the distance, not really caring who saw. That attitude turned out to be the perfectly wrong one, because as soon as their lips connected, there was loud hooting and jeering. Dean broke away to see half the team hanging out of the windows and teasing. 

Cas huffed out a laugh. “Good luck with that,” He smirked and stalked off towards his car. Dean stared for a few seconds at his perfectly shaped ass before breaking away and stepping onto the bus. 

“Ouuuu Deanie has a boyfriend,” Gordon teased, looping an arm over Dean’s shoulders. 

“Ugh dude, you stink,” Dean ducked out from under him. 

“Of course I stink I just spent two whole hours running,” Gordon defended.

“Alright everybody on?” Coach Mills interrupted in a loud voice as she stepped onto the bus. 

Dean turned and did a quick headcount. “Missing two Coach,” 

“Here!” Kevin shouted as he and Azazel stepped inside and claimed seats. 

Coach Mills nodded to the driver, who shut the doors and began easing his way out of the crowded lot. The drive to the hotel wasn’t long, ten minutes at best, but it felt even shorter with the rowdy conversations bouncing around. The feeling of victory was sweet, especially since they fought so hard for it. 

“Man I want a burger,” Cole groaned from somewhere behind Dean. 

“YES.” Hester agreed loudly. 

“Definitely could use the calories now,” Benny chipped in. 

“So it’s settled then. We raid the first burger joint we can find,” Azazel said firmly. 

“Sounds good to me,” Dean pitched in. 

Once the bus squealed to a stop in front of the hotel, the boys clambered out, thanking the driver one by one. They hovered together in the lobby.

“I heard talk of burgers on the bus,” Coach Mills began. “Anyone up for The Works?”

There was immediate and enthusiastic agreement. 

“Okay then,” She laughed. “Let’s meet back here in half an hour. Pretty sure I saw one a little ways down the road. We can walk there together.”

The boys nodded and peeled off in twos towards their rooms. Benny and Dean took the stairs to the second floor and Benny swiped them into the room.

“So. Cas came,” He said before the door had even clicked shut. 

“Yeah,” Dean answered, wary of a heart to heart. He crouched by his bag and pulled out some clean clothes. 

“Did you invite him to dinner? I know a lot of the guys already texted their friends and girlfriends to come.”

“Actually he’s gonna come here first if that’s okay. He booked a room in this hotel too.”

“Oh well thats sweet of him. You only have the one bag so it’ll be easy to switch rooms,” Benny said with a very uncharacteristic eyebrow wiggle. Dean threw a shirt at him. 

“I’m going to shower,” Dean said firmly. He locked the bathroom door and turned the shower dial before Benny could respond. It was a blissful ten minutes of standing under the hot pressurized water, but Dean didn’t linger because his stomach was painfully empty. 

Benny went to shower immediately after Dean had stepped out, fully clothed and towel drying his hair. He had just repacked his bag when there was a knock at the door. 

Dean opened it, towel in one hand. It was Cas, looking adorably unsure. 

“Hey man,” Dean said. 

“Hello Dean,” Cas answered. He shoved his hands into the pockets of his sweater. 

“Come in,” Dean said, suddenly realizing they were both standing in the doorway. Cas stepped inside just as Benny came out of the bathroom. 

“Hey, Castiel right?” Benny asked, extending a hand. “I’m Benjamin. Ben. Benny. Whatever feels right to you,”

Cas smiled. “Congratulations on the game,”

“Yeah it was a tough one,” Benny admitted. He dragged his towel through his hair again before tossing it onto the foot of the bed. 

“So. I hear you’re coming to dinner with us.”

“Yes. If thats alright,” Cas added quickly. 

“Of course it is. Anything for my bother’s boyfriend.”

Dean shot Benny an _I will kill you_ look, then flicked his eyes to Cas to see his reaction. Cas looked…confused. 

“You did not tell me you had a brother at the school,” he protested. Dean didn’t fail to notice that he said nothing about the term _boyfriend._

“I am hurt. Truly. You spent so much time with him and didn’t mention me?”

Dean rolled his eyes. “Benny is a close friend. We met in freshman year.”

Benny nodded in confirmation, then picked up Dean’s bag and tossed it at him from across the room. “Go move in with your boyfriend.”

Dean let out a nervous laugh but was interrupted by Cas. 

“Yeah. You’re more than welcome to switch to my room Dean. It’s crowded in here with two people.”

Dean wanted to protest that this double room would be just as big as any double room, but Benny was looking at him with that _you’re overthinking and I’m judging you for it_ look again and that did it. Cas was his boyfriend and he would sleep in his room if he wanted to. 

“We’re gonna go put my stuff away and meet you downstairs then,” Dean said, sealing the deal. 

“Sure thing brother,” Benny ushered them out the door. 

Once in the hallway, Cas pushed Dean into the wall and kissed him hard. Dean dropped his bag in surprise but Cas didn’t let up until Dean was nearly breathless. 

“I have waited far too long to do that again,” he murmured against Dean’s lips.

Dean almost couldn’t believe it. It was unreal that Cas seemed to actually want him. _Him._ Not just his body. His time, his thoughts, his personality. 

Well, okay, from the hot insistent way Cas was now trailing kisses down his jaw, maybe also his body. But at the same time, he seemed to want more than what Dean could offer physically. 

“My room is upstairs,” Cas said in a low voice when he was finally able to break away from the smooth skin at Dean’s collarbone. He let Dean free from against the wall and Dean realized only once the pressure was gone how hard he had been crushed. The show of force made his stomach swoop. 

Cas pressed the elevator button and both men stepped into the mirrored interior once the doors slid open. It was a little trippy to see everything from all angles, and Dean was glad when the elevator stopped. They exited onto the top floor, where there were four doors in a spacious hallway. It was so wide open it felt like a completely different hotel. 

Cas swiped a card into the third door and tugged Dean inside. 

The room was…big. It looked more like a medium sized apartment than a hotel room. The carpet under Dean’s shoes was plush and from the door, he could already see that they had entered a living room/kitchenette space. The actual bedroom and bathroom must have been through the doorless arches on the far side. 

“Dude this is like…the presidential suite or something,” Dean said, amazed. 

“Yeah..” Cas trailed off, taking Dean’s bag from him. “I asked Gabriel to book me a room and he went overboard. As usual.” 

“Hey I’m not complaining,” Dean said quickly. He gathered Cas into his arms as soon as Cas had put the bag down. “Thank you,” he said quietly.

“For what?” Cas huffed out against his chest.

“Just, being here.” Dean answered. It was hard to explain what it was like to feel supported. He hadn’t had someone come see a random game in a long while, mostly because Bobby and Sam were too far away to casually come up for the weekend. 

Can hummed and snuggled closer. Dean would have loved to just freeze time and stay like that for eternity, but he knew the clock was ticking and he didn’t want to keep the team waiting. 

“We should head down,” Dean said reluctantly. Cas pulled away slowly and they went to meet the team downstairs. 

———

Dean held the door open for Cas as they stepped into the warm night air. He felt pleasantly full after a burger, but was more than ready to get away from the rowdy energy of the team and their friends. They had excused themselves near the end of dinner on the grounds of wanting to explore downtown, but once Dean was outside the restaurant, he realized how drained he was. 

Cas slipped his arm through Dean’s. 

“Dessert?”

“Oh man. Normally I’d never say no but I’m all peopled out for the night. Not sure I can endure another crowded restaurant.”

Cas watched him with soft eyes and Dean looked away, realizing he had revealed another large part of himself. He was fine being social, but when the day was done he needed some time to recharge away from everyone. 

“Let’s get a pie and stick it in the oven back in the room then,” Cas suggested. In that moment, he had never looked more beautiful. The neon signs of downtown were making his hair reflect all sorts of blue shades and his eyes looked deep and dark. 

“Yeah I’d like that,” Dean answered honestly. 

Cas smiled and dragged him into the nearest grocery store. They wandered through the aisles until they found the frozen section, and Cas excitedly pointed to a blueberry pie. 

“That one looks perfect!” 

Dean smiled at him and let go of his arm to open the little freezer and remove the pie.

“We need ice cream too,” Cas informed him, pulling out a tub of vanilla from the freezer across the aisle.

“Thats some gourmet dessert you’re planning there,” Dean commented. 

Cas nodded once and made a beeline for the checkout counter. The bored looking cashier scanned their items without even looking up. Dean pulled his wallet out of his back pocket to pay but Cas tapped his card through before Dean had even opened it. He grabbed the bag and smirked back at Dean. 

“You don’t get to pay for your own celebration desert.”

Dean sighed and followed Cas back outside. They walked at a leisurely pace to the hotel and up to their room. Cas turned on the oven and slid the pie inside, then put the ice cream in the freezer. 

“Shoot.” Cas said suddenly.

“What?” Dean asked, immediately scanning the kitchenette looking for threats. Maybe a fire or a hidden creep or something. 

“We forgot to get forks.”

Oh. That wasn’t dangerous. He looked around the room and his eyes landed on a little coffee maker setup. There were two spoons wrapped in plastic with little napkins folded inside. He held them up triumphantly. 

“Will these work?”

Cas grinned and wound his arms behind Dean’s back, pressing him backwards until he bumped into the counter. 

“You are genius,” Cas informed him before pressing his lips to Dean’s, whose response was completely muffled. 

Dean let himself melt slowly into the kiss. He set the spoons down somewhere behind him, then trailed his hands up over Cas’s shoulders and into his hair. It was incredibly soft, much softer than it looked. He tugged slightly at the short strands and Cas didn’t even try to hold back his moan. The sound went straight to Dean’s cock. 

Cas slid his hands down Dean’s sides, down over the curve of his jeans, then put gentle pressure behind his thighs. Dean got the hint very quickly. 

He pulled away far enough to hop up on the counter, then parted his legs. Cas wasted no time in slotting himself between them and crashing their lips together again. The open position pressed them so much closer together, and Dean could now clearly feel the hard line of Cas against him. 

Cas slipped his hands underneath Dean’s shirt and spread his palms against his sides. Dean groaned and arched into the simple touch. Cas stopped kissing him long enough to pull back and look into his eyes. There was darkness there. 

There was lust. 

Dean felt a spike of anxiety telling him this was the end. Cas would have him and leave him. He squashed the feeling down, trying to convince himself that Cas wasn’t like that. He had stuck around this long, maybe he would stick around afterwards too. He didn’t quite believe it, but the heat in his gut didn’t let him think for very long. He tugged Cas’s shirt up and off and that was the end of his control. 

Cas’s skin stretched over his chest in a tantalizing way that suggested muscles, if you were brave enough to touch. He had a light dusting of hair, which led to a darker trail of it that disappeared under the waistband of his jeans. 

Cas reached out to tug off Dean’s shirt and Dean raised his arms without hesitation. The shirt dropped to the floor and Cas’s eyes ran over the newly exposed skin almost hungrily. Dean looked away, somewhat afraid that Cas would comment on the thousands of tiny freckles dotting his shoulders, or worse, the many scars he had on his skin, courtesy of John Winchester’s drunken rages. 

Dean snapped back to reality when Cas ran his fingers lightly up his arms, then down his bare chest. 

“How are you this beautiful?” Cas asked in a rough whisper. Dean was too surprised to answer, so he just pulled Cas towards him again for a kiss. The feeling of skin on skin sent a shiver up Deans spine. He felt greedy for more. He wanted to spend _hours_ exploring every inch of Cas. 

The oven timer chose that moment to beep. 

Cas pulled away with a groan and turned it off. He opened the oven and a hot curl of steam escaped. 

“Cas,” Dean said in a voice that was lower than he expected it to be. “Later.”

Cas’s eyes flashed in understanding and he was back in front of Dean in an instant. He tugged him roughly off the counter and held him up in his arms, chest to chest. 

Dean wrapped his legs around Cas almost yelped when he started walking. He was dropped unceremoniously onto a huge and ridiculously soft bed. Cas didn’t give him any time to adjust, just crawled right on top of him and started kissing him again. 

It was too warm in the room. They were wearing too many clothes. He reached down and popped open the button of his jeans. Cas immediately gripped his wrists and pinned them quickly over his head. He leaned close to his ear, pressing their hips together.

“What do you want, Dean?” He asked in his low rumble. Dean somehow hardened more at those words. Cas wanted to play dirty? Fine. He could do dirty. 

“Touch me Cas,” He groaned, pushing his hips up in an very obvious invitation. Dean expected Cas to jump right away, but he lingered by his ear. 

“Is there anything you don’t want?”

Dean’s mind glitched at those words. Was there really anything he would deny Cas if he asked for it? If he pushed? The answer was no, but Cas hadn’t asked what he was allowed to do, Cas asked what Dean wanted. The more Dean hesitated, the more he realized he really didn’t know what he wanted. He just wanted Cas closer. More contact. 

“I don’t know,” he answered honestly, hoping to everything there was to hope to that he hadn’t ruined the mood by freezing like a idiot. 

“You’ll let me know if something comes up?” Cas asked, hot breath ghosting over Dean’s collar bones in a way that made his nerves light on fire. 

“I’ll let you know,” he promised Cas. That seemed to be all he needed because Cas pulled himself up a little and pulled down Dean’s zipper, achingly slow. Dean lifted his hips and Cas surprised him by tugging off both his jeans and his boxers in one go. And there he was, completely naked and spread out on the bed. 

Cas reached out, seemingly transfixed, and took Dean’s cock in a firm grip. Dean sucked in a breath. The slide was too dry, but it felt too good for him to really care. Cas pumped him slowly, then rubbed the first drop of precum over the head. He must have made some sort of noise because Cas nodded in agreement. 

He let go of Dean and scrambled up off the bed. It took nearly three whole seconds for Cas to take off his own pants and underwear, and Dean forgot everything he had ever known because _oh my god…_

Cas was so hard his cock was jutting out, thick and full. Dean felt his mouth water at the sight, so when Cas crawled back onto the bed, Dean didn’t deny himself. He pushed Cas backwards and began a long line of wet open kisses down his chest. He lingered by his hips, pressing a kiss to each hipbone, then the delicate spot where his muscles went into the shape of a V. Cas was nearly panting and Dean smirked against his skin. He kissed the tops of Cas’s thighs, a shivery promise of what was to come. 

And shit. What _was_ to come? Dean cursed quietly and scrambled off the bed to his bag, hoping and praying. He dug around and _there_ in a little zippered pocket he found a small tube and a string of condoms. He tore off two and hopped back onto the bed. Cas was watching him with hooded eyes, propped up on his elbows, knees casually bent. 

“Someone came prepared,” Cas teased. Dean would have joked back but his voice sounded _ruined_ which made Dean’s heart do weird things. 

“Is that okay?” He asked.

“Very,” Cas answered, swallowing. 

Dean pushed Cas’s knees apart far enough that he could lay between them, then tore open one of the condoms and rolled it on expertly. Cas leaned back and fisted the sheets, groaning just from that little contact. 

He kissed the head of Cas’s cock, then took just the tip of it into his mouth. The condom tasted weird, and Dean made a mental note to get tested as soon as he got home so they could skip the condoms next time. His heart twisted sharply at the thought that there probably wouldn’t _be_ a next time, because there never was, but he refused to think about that now. He sucked Cas down as far as he could and pulled up slowly, hollowing out his cheeks. 

Cas bucked up once and Dean moved both hands to his hips, holding him down and taking control. 

He teased at first, light sucks and feathery kisses, but soon fell into a steady rhythm. Cas was breathing heavily from above him and Dean felt a hand thread through his hair. He lifted off with a pop.

“Can you-“ Cas broke off. He picked up the tube of lube and the other condom that Dean had tossed onto the bed, and Dean suddenly understood what Cas wanted. It seemed impossible, but Cas’s next words made his wishes clear as glass. 

“I want you inside me,” he gasped out. 

Dean felt a curl of heat in the pit of his stomach. He had fucked plenty of girls before, but never a guy. With a guy he had always been the one to take it. Suddenly he regretted only allowing himself to mess around with guys when he was drunk and angry at a bar, looking more for pain than he was for pleasure, which is usually what he got. He cursed himself for not ever having tried it the other way, because Cas deserved an expert fucking right now. 

He resolved to take whatever shitty and painful experiences he had in his past and do the exact opposite, which meant the first step was probably some lube. 

He clicked open the tube and drizzled some on his fingers, spreading it around with one hand to warm it up. Cas tipped his head back onto the pillow and let Dean do what he wanted, completely trusting. Dean ducked his head down and sucked Cas into his mouth again. He reached lower and pressed a finger against Cas’s hole, which drew out a not so quiet moan from him. After a minute, the tight ring of muscle relaxed and Dean slipped a fingertip in slowly. Cas ground down against him and Dean obliged, letting the entire finger bury itself in Cas’s tight heat. 

He sucked up, then back down Cas’s length as his finger pumped slowly in and out, letting Cas get used to the feeling. Eventually, Cas was squirming against him, so Dean added a second finger. He was so hard he pressed his hips into the mattress, rutting gently against it to give himself some relief. 

After several minutes, Dean gently added a third finger. Cas was mumbling nonsense at this point and his hands in Dean’s hair were by turn running through it, then controlling Dean’s head. They didn’t seem to know what they wanted. Dean popped off his cock to look at him but Cas was gone, completely absorbed in pushing back into Dean’s fingers. 

“Ready?” Dean asked. His throat felt raw.

“Oh god yes,” Cas groaned immediately from above him. Dean smirked and removed his fingers to roll on his own condom, making Cas whine at the loss. He tore open the foil with a soft snick and rolled the thing on with one hand while he moved up Cas’s body and lined himself up with the other. Cas tugged him down for a hot open mouthed kiss and Dean sunk into him, inch by inch. 

He bottomed out and paused for a moment to let Cas adjust, but Cas pulled away from his mouth with a sound close to a growl. 

“Move,” he demanded, so Dean did. He pulled back and sunk slowly into Cas again. Cas kissed him once. 

“Harder love,” he urged, so gently that Dean wanted to laugh. His man wanted it rough? Fine. He could do that. He pulled out almost completely and slammed back through that tight wet heat, setting a bruising pace. Cas gasped into the crook of Dean’s neck and bit down on the soft skin there. 

Cas let it go on for several long minutes before he pulled back with a grin and flipped them over. Dean landed on his back, startled for a brief moment before Cas sunk down over him again and he couldn’t think of anything else but the tight wet glide and Cas’s dark blue fitted eyes. 

Cas took Dean’s lubed hand and guided it to his bouncing cock. Dean fisted it, letting Cas fuck up into his hand and down onto his cock by turn. Cas leaned forwards, planting his hands firmly on either side of Dean’s head. The angle change must have hit something different because he was nearly crying out with every thrust. 

He tipped his forehead against Dean’s and bit down hard on his bottom lip as he came. The rhythmic clenching around Dean pushed him over the edge as well, and when he came back down to earth, Cas was collapsed against his chest, breathing hard. Dean wrapped both arm’s around Cas’s back, marvelling at the light sheen of sweat there. _He_ did that. Dean felt a flutter of pride in his chest. 

Cas peeled himself up with a groan and lifted his hips, letting Dean slip out of him. Dean watched his movements, already feeling his defences go up. Cas would no doubt make an excuse about having to go home now and he would never want to see him again. 

Before his thoughts could spiral further, Cas interrupted them by running a hand through his hair. He dragged a finger over his red abused lips, then trailed it down his chest. 

“That was perfect,” he admitted, almost shyly. 

Dean nodded in agreement and let Cas gently peel off both condoms. He leaned down to peck Dean on the lips, a laughably chaste gesture compared to what they had just done.

“I’m going to get a towel to clean us up,” Cas explained as he swung off of Dean, who immediately missed his weight. He turned to the side to watch Cas walk though an open door to a large bathroom he hadn’t noticed before. Cas flicked on a light and Dean’s eyes were immediately drawn to the large tub in the middle of the room. 

“No way, is that a bathtub?”

Cas tossed the condoms in the bin and picked up a facecloth, running it under the warm tap. 

“Yeah. Actually I think it makes bubbles,” He answered, wringing the cloth out. He left the lights on and perched beside Dean on the bed. Gently; more gently than any man of his size had a right to be, he wiped Dean off. 

“We can give it a whirl if you want,” Cas said, turning the cloth over and cleaning himself off as well. 

“Uh. Yes. I would very much like that.”

“Okay then. One bubble bath coming right up,” He said jokingly as he went to adjust the temperature on the tub’s faucet. Dean watched his naked form and marvelled at how perfectly comfortable Cas seemed, like he had all the time in the world.

When Cas was satisfied with the water, he squirted the entirety of one of the hotel shampoo samples into it, then laid two towels on the counter, ready to go. 

He walked back into the bedroom and leaned down to kiss Dean again. It seemed like he couldn’t get enough of Dean’s lips, but nobody was complaining. 

“I know you’re not supposed to eat before swimming, but does pie before a bath count?”

Dean pretended to consider this. “If you let me have more than half of the pie then it definitely doesn’t.”

Cas smirked and tugged Dean up out of the bed. He raced to the kitchenette yelling “not if I get there first!”

Dean bolted after him and caught him just as he was pulling the pie out of the cooled down oven using a kitchen towel. Dean opened both of the spoon packages and held them out to Cas.

“Choose your weapon, sir.”

Cas plucked a spoon out of Dean’s hand and plunged it into the middle of the pie. He pulled out a bite overflowing with blueberries and the crumble topping, then gently blew on it and held it out to Dean. 

He locked eyes with Cas and took the bite slowly. Cas watched as Dean swallowed, then licked a swipe of the thick filling from the corner of his lips. 

Cas took a bite for himself and his eyes flew open. “We forgot the ice cream!” He pulled the small tub out of the freezer and opened it, offering it to Dean, who took a spoonful and fed it to Cas. They continued taking bites, sometimes eating, sometimes feeding it to each other until the pie had a large hole in the middle and the ice cream was stained purple from the berries. 

“We should probably check on the water,” Dean suggested after a couple minutes. 

Cas nodded and stuck the ice cream back in the fridge and their spoons into the pie before tugging Dean towards the bathroom. The tub was almost full and there was a thick layer of foam over the water. 

“After you,” Dean said in a mockingly formal voice. He swung a hand in a grand gesture at the tub. Cas took his hand and stepped into the water, then sunk down and leaned against one side. 

“Come here,” He said, tugging on the hand he was still holding. Dean flicked off the tap and climbed into the tub. He sat between Cas’s parted legs, leaning back against his warm chest. Cas sighed into his hair and linked his hands at Dean’s waist, just holding him. 

“Are we moving too fast Dean?” He asked after a comfortable pause. Dean startled out of his warm haze. 

“I don’t know Cas,” He said after a moment. “I’ve never really done this before.” _I’ve never felt like this before._

Cas squeezed his hands once before letting go and trailing his fingers up Dean’s thighs. He pressed into the muscle, working out the tension. 

“Yeah me neither. But I don’t wanna slow down,” Cas admitted against the crook of Dean’s neck. He noticed a dark mark he must have made there earlier that night and kissed the bruise, making Dean shiver against him. 

“Well, then I guess we’ll figure things out together. And if something goes wrong we’ll talk it through.”

“Yeah,” Cas agreed. “But Dean, we barely know each other. It feels like I’ve known you my whole life, possibly why this is so easy for me, but in reality I don’t know a whole lot about you.”

Dean sighed and leaned more heavily against Cas, giving his hands access to roam over his hips and chest, which they did. “Ask whatever you want to Cas.”

Cas was silent for a moment, then he huffed out a little laugh. “Well now that it’s so wide open I can’t think of a single thing I need to know.”

Dean laughed back. “Well in that case, we will find out more as we go along. I swear I’m not a murderer though. You know, in case that’s what you’re wondering.”

Cas raised a hand out of the water to swat Dean, which just launched a fluff of bubbles at him instead, making him sputter. He turned in the water and pressed his chest to Cas’s, marvelling at how large the tub was that it allowed two grown men to comfortably lie back and move around in it. He shifted up to brush a kiss against Cas’s lips and was acutely aware of how their spent cocks also brushed together in the water. 

Cas pulled away with a raised eyebrow after a moment. 

“Are you trying to start something Dean?” He asked in mock suspicion. 

“Depends. Is it working?” Dean asked, pushing his hips down. He could feel Cas hardening under him. 

“Yes. Very much so,” Cas said. He gave Dean no warning, just reached into the water and grasped them both in one hand. 

In the end, they needed a shower after the bath, and by the time they crawled into the bed it was well past midnight, but Dean wouldn’t trade that evening for the entire world.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Blueberry pie is the most superior pie type. Fight me.


	16. Bittersweet Birthday

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ohhhhhh babes. I owe you all a million apologies and several rapid fire updates to make up for the horribly long time its been since I last worked on this. 
> 
> To be fully transparent, I’ve caught the plague. Turns out if you play with fire (or in my case, work directly with it) you will get burned (burnt?) I finished off 2020 violently ill, and started off the new year with a freshly diagnosed case of covid (no I will NOT capitalize it, get off by back). 
> 
> I’ve been writing one shots and random little ramblings because most days I’m not lucid enough to actually focus on a fic that requires planning and thought. (I am now weakly pointing to the random other things I posted as a peace offering). 
> 
> The following is, again, a long and angsty chapter that I hope you will enjoy, and I hope I’m slightly less delirious in the next few days and can write another one for you. Love you all, please keep far away from this virus situation because it literally knocks you on your ass and it’s hard as heck to get back up.

After the rush of winning an away game, the world melted back into its usual routine. Dean was so caught up in the whirlwind of campus life that Gabriel’s text a few days later came as a complete surprise. 

_Hey kid, it’s Cassie’s bday in 2 days. Wanna come over around 3 and surprise him? He didn’t want anyone to come but I figured you might not count because he won’t shut up about you._

Something swelled in Dean’s chest at that. He responded that of course he would be there, then proceeded to spend the next two days obsessing over which gift to get. 

He ended up driving to the mall the morning of Cas’s birthday and wandering around all sorts of odd little curiosity shops until he happened upon a large jar shaped like a cartoon honey hive. It was _perfect._ The cashier was even nice enough to gift wrap it for him, which was a huge relief because Dean was cutting it close on time. He drove from the mall straight to Cas’s place. 

As he parked in the roundabout and picked up his carefully wrapped gift, Raphael met him with a large hug. 

“Dean! I’m glad you could come. I think Castiel is around back.”

Dean smiled politely and followed Raphael down the little garden trail. Raphael pointed Dean to a bench where Cas was indeed curled up reading, and ducked inside the house. 

Dean carefully made his way over and even managed to sit down before Cas broke his focus.

“Dean!” He immediately dropped his book and threw his arms around Dean, crushing him in a tight hug. 

“Happy birthday,” Dean choked out. It was a miracle he was able to even talk, what with the air being squeezed out of him. 

“This is for you,” Dean said, handing Cas the wrapped package as soon as he was released. 

“Really?” Cas asked, eyes lighting up adorably. He tore into the bag like a kid on Christmas and pulled out the jar, wrapped carefully in more brown paper. Slowly, he unstuck the tape and pulled out the large glass contraption. 

Something in his eyes seemed to melt when he saw the jar, and he opened his mouth, presumably to say thank you, but nothing came out. Instead, he set the jar so very gently back into the bag, and crawled right into Dean’s lap, kissing him long and hard on the mouth. 

“So I take it you like the gift?” Dean asked with a small chuckle once they came up for air.

“Yes. So very much,” Cas answered, punctuating each word with a kiss. 

Dean would have happily continued except Hazel ran out of a flower bush and straight into his legs. She gripped them and looked up at Dean and her uncle, who were mostly tangled together. 

“Uncle Gabe says to come eat,” she informed them in her teeny voice. 

“Okay sweet pea. We’re coming,” Cas told her, ruffling her wild curls. That seemed to be the only reassurance she needed because she bounded straight back into the house, dodging Anna who was calling for her to put some shoes on while outside. 

“I guess we’d better go?” Dean suggested. Castiel slid off of him reluctantly and tugged him up, but pulled too hard, making Dean fling forwards straight into his chest. 

“To be continued,” He whispered into Dean’s ear. Dean swallowed against his racing heart and let himself be tugged into the house, then led down to the kitchen. 

“Ah and there’s the happy couple,” Gabriel said loudly once they had taken their seats. From the side of the table, Michael threw a mandarin slice at him, which might have been funny except Gabriel crouched and caught it in his mouth. 

“This is a birthday, not a wedding Gabe,” Michael informed him, giving his youngest brother an apologetic look. 

“It’s not a wedding yet.” 

At that, Castiel coughed awkwardly, and Gabriel smirked before pulling several pizzas out of a large stone oven. 

“I want the cheese one!” Hazel called immediately. Anna picked her up and set her onto her chair again before the kid could crawl across the table and claim the pizza herself. Raphael laughed and cut her a small slice to cool on her plate. 

“Any preference Dean?” Gabriel asked, gesturing to the collection of personal pizzas that he somehow just kept pulling out. 

“None at all,” Dean answered honestly. He had eaten with the Novaks enough to know that anything Gabriel made would taste like it had been blessed by heaven. Gabriel slid the next pizza onto his plate, a bubbling, cheesy flatbread sort of thing with various meats sliced on top. 

Beside him, Castiel claimed one with tomatoes, basil, and some sort of round sliced cheese. 

“Happy birthday Cassie,” Raphael said with a wide grin. “Does your favourite brother have to give a speech or something?”

Castiel let out a snort, but Gabriel whacked Raphael’s arm quite hard. “Excuse you. I’m the favourite brother. And who’s getting events mixed up now? Speeches are for weddings, not birthdays.” 

Raphael shrugged and took a large bite of pizza in lieu of answering, which was probably a good idea since Gabriel was way too energetic to maintain normal conversation right now. 

The rest of the meal went by without a hitch, if you don’t count Hazel spilling her smoothie in excitement once she saw the cake. 

Dean didn’t really blame her because he felt just as excited, and one look at Cas told him they may as well start a club. Gabriel had produced a large chocolate cake with a cluster of candles in the middle. There was chocolate dripping down the sides and various chopped chocolates in a wreath shape on top. 

Dean joined in on a version of happy birthday that was surprisingly off key for such a musical family. It seemed each brother stubbornly stuck with their own rhythm and starting note, and kept with it the entire way though. Gabriel finished singing a good twenty seconds after everyone else with an overly dramatic slide of notes, but Cas didn’t seem to mind. He grinned and blew out the candles, accepting first a hug from Dean, then a squeezing clinging one from Hazel. 

“Can I have a big slice?” Hazel whispered in Cas’s ear. Castiel gave her a sly wink and shifted her so she was sitting on one of his thighs. He was handed a large knife, which he used to cut the cake up and distribute it. Dean didn’t fail to notice that Hazel’s slice was slightly bigger than everyone else’s, and she dug into it with a triumphant grin. 

“So, what’s next birthday boy?” Michael asked around a mouthful of chocolate cake.

“First of all, I’m 22, I think I earned the right to never be called _boy_ again.”

Michael raised an eyebrow at him but Cas didn’t continue. “Brother, if you’re going to start something with ‘first of all’ there needs to be a ‘second of all.’” 

“Give him a break M. Can’t you see he’s drunk?” Gabriel teased, slinging an arm over his brother to collect his empty plate. 

“I’m not drunk,” Castiel protested. Dean laughed. They hadn’t had a drop of alcohol so far. 

“Oh right. Well we’d better fix that then,” Gabriel said quickly. He wheeled over a little wood and iron cart cluttered with various alcohols and pulled a cocktail shaker out of a nearby cabinet. 

He proceeded to mix them each a flute of who knows what, making exaggerated motions and half dancing the entire time. Hazel was gasping for air between giggles by the time he had finished. 

Dean suspiciously eyed the drink he had been handed. There was something along the rim of his glass and he he licked it, immediately making a face at how sour it was. 

Cas snorted at him. “You have to drink it all together.”

Dean took a small sip and had to admit that it was bearable when immediately washed down with strong alcohol. In the future however, he wouldn’t mind sticking with beer. 

The family eventually made it’s way to the living room, where Anna handed Cas another wrapped gift while they all settled onto the squashy sofas. Michael turned on a soft playlist in the background. 

“Hazel picked it out,” She explained, as Hazel helped Cas tear open the wrapping paper. 

“Twister?” Cas said, excitedly sweeping Hazel up for a hug. 

Anna shrugged. “Every college student needs to own at least one version of twister.”

“Can we play?” Hazel asked, clutching the box to her chest hopefully. 

“Sure kid,” Castiel answered. Hazel hopped erratically around the room for a few minutes before she understood that in order to play, they had to set the game up first. She meticulously helped Cas spread out the plastic mat, then brought the spinner card over to Dean. 

“Will you tell us where to go?” 

Dean set down his empty glass and took the card from her. “Sure. Go win.” 

Cas and Hazel stood at opposite ends of the board, Hazel with a menacing scowl on her face. She must have thought threatening the opposition would work, and it did because it soon became clear that Cas was not that flexible and he crash landed on his ass. 

Hazel scrambled up, flexing her nonexistent muscles and doing a running victory lap around the living room. Raphael raised his glass up high to avoid a liquid collision. 

“Who will challenge me?” Hazel asked, eyeing the rest of them. 

“Oh I’m gonna crush you kid,” Gabriel answered. He downed the rest of his drink before handing the empty glass to Michael. True to his word, he performed some impressive acrobatics and Hazel eventually forfeited the game in a fit of laughter. 

Ever competitive, Michael and Raphael also had to then prove themselves, and it was a long couple rounds with some laughably awkward positions before they collapsed back on the sofa, breathing hard. 

“Dean, you and Cas should go,” Raphael suggested, nursing a bent wrist. 

Dean, never one to back down from a challenge, scooted off the sofa and stood at one end of the mat. 

“May the odds be ever in your favour,” He said to Cas sarcastically. 

Cas crouched down low and rolled up the sleeves of his shirt. “Bring it.” 

And so Dean did. Anna was calling out limbs and colours and no matter the angle, Dean absolutely refused to give up. They ended with Cas bent like a bridge, desperately trying to keep his butt off the ground. Dean was hovering completely over him, and as he reached his left hand to the furthest red dot, they both came crashing down. 

Dean landed, to the siblings amusement, directly on top of Cas, practically chin to chin. 

“I win,” Cas said smugly from underneath him. 

“You most definitely did not! You touched the ground first!” Dean protested. 

From off to the side came the sound of a picture being snapped at the same time as Hazel tackled them, joining the dog pile. 

“Aww gross keep it PG,” Gabriel complained from the couch, but he was smirking too hard for it to come across as serious. 

Anna swooped Hazel up and Dean crawled off of Cas, hauling him up as well. 

“Hey guys, the sun will be setting soon. Wanna go visit mom?” Raphael asked, gathering all the empty glasses. 

Beside him, Cas got very quiet, but the rest of the brothers all nodded in agreement. It took a bit of shuffling while everyone put on their sweaters and Raphael returned empty-handed from the kitchen, but they all eventually made it outside. Hazel, bundled in a sparkly white puffer jacket, ran straight into the garden, yelling something about picking a flower for grandma. 

Cas slipped his hand into Dean’s and offered him a small smile, tugging him towards the garden as well. 

The lingered there for a few minutes, each picking a handful of the autumn blooms. Dean chose a couple sprays of small purple flowers. 

The brothers led the way, talking quietly amongst themselves, and Dean trailed behind them with Cas. They followed a dirt trail out of the garden, then a small stone lined path, then continued onto another winding dirt path through a small wooded area. The leaves were already turning, and Dean couldn’t help but notice how breathtaking Cas looked, a tall dark thing among all the bright colours. 

“Are you okay?” Dean asked, hooking an arm around Cas’s waist as they walked. The man was uncharacteristically quiet. 

“Yeah,” Cas said after a beat. “I just hate that she’s not here.” 

Dean swallowed hard. He completely understood the feeling. He wanted to ask for the full story but somehow felt it was inappropriate to bring it up. Cas must have sensed his question though because he gave a small sigh. 

“I was born really early in the morning. It was kinda still nighttime actually.” 

Dean squeezed his side, hoping he knew he didn’t have to go on, but Cas took a deep breath and continued anyways. 

“Everything was fine for a couple hours but I guess she didn’t stop bleeding and there were no signs of it until it was too late.” 

Dean stopped in his tracks, pulling Cas to a stop with him. He looked deep into his blue eyes. 

“None of that was your fault, I hope you know that.” 

Cas gazed steadily back and after a moment, he shrugged. “Some days I do. Some days it’s hard to forget that she isn’t here and my whole family broke apart because of me.”

Dean would have been convinced that Cas was fine with that except the crack in his voice gave him away. He pulled Cas in for a tight hug. 

“Nothing broke because of you Cas. Look around. I’d give anything to be this close to my family. They love you and _nobody_ blames you.”

Cas shuddered against him and Dean squeezed him once before letting him pull away, pointedly not watching as Cas wiped roughly at an unruly tear and turned to look in the direction his family had disappeared. 

“We should catch up,” he said, giving Dean’s hand a squeeze.

“Are you sure you’re okay Cas?” Dean asked cautiously. Cas nodded and gave him a brave smile, then started walking, crunching on as many failed leaves as possible. Soon the path opened into a small clearing with a well maintained cemetery. There weren’t many headstones, but Dean’s gaze was immediately drawn to the large swirled marble one under a huge oak. 

Anna, Hazel, and the brothers were huddled loosely around it, gently placing their flowers down. 

“Hey mom,” Cas said quietly as he added his handful to the pile. “I hope you’re doing well. Happy and whatnot. We just stopped by to say hi.” He trailed his fingers over the top of the headstone and stepped back. Dean’s heart squeezed, hearing the tightness in his voice. 

“We love you Grandma,” Hazel said, planting a wet kiss on the cold stone. She crouched down and rearranged the flowers a little before bounding back and jumping into her mother’s arms. 

They stayed there in a peaceful silence for a few minutes, just watching the sun dip a little lower and the birds flit back and forth between the trees. After a while, Gabriel turned and began walking back, saying nothing. Nobody disturbed him. They had all seen the wetness on his cheeks. 

The walk home was contemplative, and Dean was endlessly grateful when Castiel threaded their fingers together. He pulled him close to whisper. 

“Another birthday tradition we have; we always watch a cheesy rom com.”

“Aww no. Hell no. A chick flick?” Dean asked in horror. 

Castiel smirked, a look which was complete and pure evil. “It’s Gabe’s turn to pick this year, so be prepared for extra cheese.” 

Dean made a comic vomiting sound, but secretly, he was looking forward to snuggling with Cas on the couch and having a good laugh. Once they were all back inside the warmth of the house (it really was getting quite chilly once the sun had set), Raphael ducked into the kitchen to bring out some popcorn and beer. 

Michael produced several large fluffy blankets. He threw one over Hazel, covering her completely where she stood, and he laughed as she squealed and dug her way out, breaking the sombre mood. 

Gabriel connected his laptop to the large television and loaded up Mr. Right as they piled on various pieces of the couch. Dean ended up curled around Cas on a squashy love seat, which was just fine with him. Cas tugged a blanket around them both, effectively turning them into one large human burrito. 

“No funny business under there boys,” Gabriel warned as he passed them a bowl of popcorn. 

“You’re nasty,” Dean informed him, whipping a piece of popcorn at his head. It bounced harmlessly down, but Gabriel picked it up, looking wounded. 

“Would everyone please stop throwing food at me? What is with you people? I know for a fact that some of you were _not_ raised in barns.”

Michael laughed and crawled forward to hit play, and soon the room was absorbed in the sounds of the movie. It turned out that like many other things, the Novaks watched movies actively, and Dean was soon in stitches at Anna and Gabriel’s added commentary. 

Hazel, completely tuckered out from the walk, fell asleep on one corner of the couch and somehow didn’t stir at all despite the copious amount of noise they were all making. 

An hour and a half later, the screen went dark and they were wiping away tears of laughter. It was overall the best rom com experience Dean had ever had (although if word got out that he had more than the one he would hire a hitman.)

Anna picked up a sleeping Hazel and they all filtered off to their rooms. Dean stayed behind for a fraction of a second to stack the empty popcorn bowls and he bumped into Gabriel, who was gathering the empty beer bottles onto a coffee table. 

“Thanks for coming Dean, it meant a lot to him,” He said honestly. 

“Of course Gabe. I had a lot of fun.”

“Hey you’re staying the night, right?” Gabriel asked, almost as an afterthought. 

Dean ran a hand through his hair. “Yeah, I was planning on it. Why?”

“Just,” Gabriel hesitated. “Keep an eye on him will you?” He asked before disappearing cryptically down a hallway. Dean had no idea what that was supposed to mean, and was confused as he made his way up the stairs and into Cas’s room. That’s where it all clicked into place, mostly because the atmosphere in the room was so hollow it was borderline depressing. 

“Cas,” Dean breathed out worriedly. Cas was standing over his open dresser, already in pyjamas and holding a spare pair in one hand but looking at them like he didn’t quite know what to do with them. The crash in his mood from what it had been downstairs just a few minutes ago was startling. 

“Cas,” Dean repeated softly. Castiel turned and looked at him like he had just now noticed he wasn’t alone. 

“Sorry. I- Sorry.” He said, placing the clothes into Dean’s arms. Dean immediately set them onto the dresser and gathered Cas into a hug, rubbing a hand soothingly down his spine and back up again. 

“Cas you’re okay. It’s all okay,” Dean murmured by his ear. He knew this demon all too well, the viscous guilt, the back and forth, the mood swings. He was aware that Cas knew his mother’s death wasn’t his fault, but he was also aware that sometimes the logical train of thought just didn’t seem so logical. 

“This is stupid,” Cas said almost angrily, scrubbing a hand roughly over his face. 

“What is?” Dean asked quietly. 

“We had a great day. There is literally no reason on earth for me to be upset right now.”

Dean let the silence hang for a moment. “Cas this is normal actually. Its an emotional day, you lost your _mother._ You’re allowed to feel things.” 

Cas looked up like that was complete news to him. 

“There’s just too much to feel,” he said, sounding slightly horrified. “I’m lost, like everything is floating away and I don’t even know if it’s okay to be happy, but it also feels like it’s not okay to be sad. I’m just floating in between and I don’t know how to stop.”

Dean pulled back to look at Cas properly, and Cas sighed. He disentangled himself and walked across the room to turn off the lights, then slid under the covers without another word. Dean quickly shucked off his clothes in the dark and changed into pyjamas before joining him. 

Cas kept his back turned to Dean at first, but when Dean trailed a hand lightly down his arm, he flipped over and plastered himself to Dean’s chest. 

“You can hold onto me Cas. I won’t float anywhere.” 

Cas huffed out a wet laugh and Dean cupped a hand behind his head, lightly scratching through his hair. It took a long time, but eventually they both fell asleep.


	17. Slept with Gatsby

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm aliiiiiive.

Dean flexed his thigh, trying desperately to telepathically tell Cas to _let him pay attention._ Cas only smirked and let his hand drift another inch up Dean’s leg. Dean squirmed, fighting hard not to get aroused in the middle of his fricking English lecture. 

Cas was being unbelievable. He was the perfect picture of calm, sitting there, all blue eyes and sex hair and diligently copying down a note every once in a while. Dean was sure his blush probably went all the way down. He felt hot. If this went on much longer he’d have to drag Cas out of here and find an empty room to rip all his clothes off and just ravage him. 

By some miracle, the prof cleared her throat and decided to end class ten minutes early. Dean had his laptop packed away in record time and basically flew out of that lecture hall, pointedly ignoring Cas’s soft chuckle behind him. 

He waited anxiously just outside the classroom door, and it seemed like each and every person filtered out of that room except for Cas. Even the prof left, giving Dean a small smile on her way out.

Finally. _Finally._ Cas exited. Dean grabbed him by the hips, spun him around, and pinned him right against the nearest wall, ignoring the thud of Cas’s dropped backpack. He crashed their lips together and pushed his weight into Cas, who made a muffled noise of surprise, but Dean didn’t pull back to let him talk. Thats just what he gets for being such a tease all morning. 

He didn’t care who was watching. Let them enjoy the show. He had something to prove. Nobody keys up Dean Winchester and leaves him hanging. 

It could have been a minute, it could have been thirty, either way, Dean was glad he had nowhere to be this afternoon. When they finally pulled apart, Cas’s lips were red and swollen. 

Yup. He definitely got what he deserved. 

Cas gave him a huge smile and ran his fingers through Dean’s hair, to fix it or to mess it up, Dean had no idea. He was okay with either one. 

“What did I do to deserve that?” Cas asked breathlessly. 

“Uh. Well for starters you showed up dressed in that,” Dean gestured to the form fitting half zip that not so subtly hinted at every hard line of muscle that it was covering. 

“To continue, your ass. Those jeans.” He hooked his fingers in Cas’s belt loops, pulling their hips together. 

“Furthermore, you smell like a goddam angel,” Dean leaned down slightly and buried his nose in the crook of Cas’s neck, not bothering to hide his deep inhale. 

“And finally, you distracted me the entire class!”

Cas barked out a sharp laugh. “Hey Dean, an English credit looks good on you.”

Dean pulled back to look Cas in the eye. “Huh?”

Cas pushed off the wall and laced his fingers with Dean’s leading them outside and into the late October sunshine.

“I just mean you’re all fancy now with your furthermores and finallys.”

“Shut up,” Dean said, but there was no heat behind it. The air outside smelled crisp, like the promise of winter. Soccer season was coming to a close, and so far the team was undefeated. Dean was keeping up his grades. He was even up to date on rent payments and each month he had enough left over for groceries. Things were looking up, and Dean had never felt lighter and more carefree. 

“Wanna study at my house? We’ll have it all to ourselves,” Cas asked with a suggestive eyebrow wiggle. 

“Oh really,” Dean answered, pretending to think it over, even though his answer would always be _heck yes._

“Mhm,” Cas answered innocently. “Michael is doing a couple shows like two hours away, Gabe got called to do a demonstration at some cooking convention for a few days, and Raph, I’m pretty sure he’s in Europe. He said something about an exposition in France and then left with a suitcase. It’s hard to get coherent information out of that one.”

“Well they definitely all sound very busy,” Dean could agree. 

“We can read the last chapter together? Maybe get our essay outlines done.”

“Yeah that sounds good.”

They had walked to the lot where Cas usually parked his car, and Dean slid into the passenger’s seat. Normally, he got nervous if he wasn’t driving, but with Cas, it was so easy to lie back and live. Plus it helped that Cas followed road rules to the letter. 

The drive, like all drives with Cas, melted away and Cas parked smoothly in the garage. Dean swung his backpack over his shoulder, closed the door with a satisfying thump, then followed Cas straight to his room. 

Cas dropped his bag onto the floor and Dean followed suit, and there may or may not have been another make out session on Cas’s bed. It may or may not have ended with a slightly too forceful bite to the lip and a subsequent whack with the nearest pillow. 

They broke apart and Cas raised his weight onto his forearms, chest pressed heavily against Deans, legs long and lazy between Dean’s parted ones. 

“We’re never gonna get anything done like this,” Cas half groaned. He thunked his forehead down on Dean’s chest. 

Dean hummed. “Well I have a few ideas of things I’d like to finish off.” 

Cas raised his head, looking shocked. “Scandalous,” he gasped in a bad accent from who knows where. Dean laughed and moved to push Cas off of him, but Cas flopped his head again, a dead weight. He reached one arm under his blanket and produced his worn copy of Gatsby from beneath the folds. 

“No way, you slept with Gatsby?” Dean asked, mimicking Cas’s shock. 

Cas shrugged against him and flipped the book open to the last chapter, holding it with one hand. 

“He was here. You weren’t,” he answered easily, as if that was a good enough excuse. 

Cas turned his head so he could see the book, then wriggled into a more comfortable position over Dean, who had never been more happy to be used as a mattress. 

“After two years, I remember that day, and that night and the next day,” Cas started. His voice rumbled in his chest, a deep rough sound, and Dean felt the vibrations right in his ribcage. He threaded his fingers into the finely curled hair at the base of Cas’s neck, closed his eyes, and let himself get lost in the words. 

“It eluded us then, but that’s no matter - tomorrow we will run faster, stretch our arms farther. So we beat on, boats against the current, borne back ceaselessly into the past.” Cas closed the book softly and set it on the bed. 

“I don’t wanna move,” He rumbled against Dean. 

“Then don’t,” Dean answered simply. “I could stay like this for years.”

Cas shifted, propped his chin against Dean’s sternum, and squinted at him. 

“How are you still breathing? I’m like, over 200 pounds.”

Dean chuckled lightly. “My little baby feather.” He rubbed a hand down Cas’s back as far as it could reach. 

“No, seriously. I must be crushing you.”

“Cas don’t you dare move. I am steel. I am alpha. Nothing is too heavy for me.”

Cas let out a startled laugh. “You’re suck a dork.” He dropped his head back onto Dean’s chest. 

From his bag, Dean’s phone buzzed. Neither man moved, but seconds later it buzzed again. Then six more times in quick succession. 

“Someone’s looking for you,” Cas said from his limp spot. 

Dean groaned and shoved Cas off of him like he was a rag doll, earning a startled yelp. He dug into his bag and found that the team group chat had exploded with messages. He scrolled to the top, where there was a neatly worded text from Benny. 

_Team building exercise. Grab your girlfriend (or whoever’s closest) and meet at the scream park in half an hour. Must be wearing costumes (uniform doesn’t count Gordon)_

“What is it?” Cas asked, standing beside the bed and straightening the covers a little. 

“The team,” Dean answered. “They want us to meet in costume at the scream park.”

“Oh. That sounds fun,” Cas answered lightly. 

“We’re supposed to bring someone. Wanna come?”

The immediate glint in Cas’s eye was bright enough to power the city through a storm. “I love scream parks,” Cas admitted. 

“Well, that makes two of us. Only problem is, I don’t have a costume.”

“That shouldn’t be a problem,” Cas said with a slightly sheepish look. “Gabriel has a whole closet full.”

Dean was relieved for a whole second before the suspicion set in. “Do I wanna ask what he uses them for…?”

Cas hit him on the arm. “Get your mind out of the gutter. Hazel is obsessed with playing dress and Gabriel is obsessed with Hazel, so he buys all sorts of random things. You should see the stuff they come up with,” Cas shook his head fondly. 

“Okay. Lead the way then,” Dean gestured to the bedroom door, still feeling like he was completely justified in jumping to kinky conclusions when it came to Gabriel. The man had a vibe, and he seemed proud of it. 

Cas led Dean up to a third floor, which turned out to be a finished attic. He really wasn’t kidding when he said Gabriel and Hazel liked to play. The walls were lined with racks, and the racks were crammed with so many random items of clothing it looked like a high school theatre dressing room got a professional makeover. 

Dean was immediately overwhelmed. There were frilly skirts in every length and colour, striped shirts, scarves of every imaginable pattern, a whole section dedicated to fairy wings, a rack full of capes. Lining one wall were masks of every type. Lining the other were pairs upon pairs of shoes, some in a clear men’s size, most in a tiny child’s size. Close to the sloped ceiling, on a wraparound shelf, sat hats for every occasion. 

“Yeah,” Cas said slowly, as if embarrassed by the complete randomness of his brother. 

“You should wear this,” Dean said in awe as he pulled out a giant sparking tiara. 

Cas snorted. “How about no.”

Dean set it back in it’s spot and scanned the room. There was just too much there to narrow down all the things he wanted to be. The sword leaning against the wall looked real, but when he picked it up it was light as plastic. There was costume inspiration dripping off of every hanger, and Dean was completely lost in it all until his eyes landed on something across the room. 

“Bingo,” He whispered, making a beeline straight towards it. 

He pulled the mask down over his face and turned towards Cas. 

“I’m batman,” Dean said, striking a pose. He tore the mask of in surprise when it warped his voice, making it sound much lower and sort of like he had been gargling rocks. 

Cas shrugged helplessly. “Gabe likes cool toys,” he offered in explanation. 

“Yeah well, Gabe is awesome,” Dean said shortly. 

He tucked the mask under one arm and stalked over to a rack of capes, flicking through dragonskin, purple velvet, silk, and sheer lace until he found a plain glossy black one. He pulled it out triumphantly and was delighted to find it was scalloped at the bottom, sort of like bat wings. He inspected the corners and found that it had little straps for your wrists. 

It went _perfectly_ with his black jeans and long sleeve. Dean scrambled into it and sealed the velcro, then proceeded to run a quick circle around the attic, making the cape billow out behind him. He flapped his arms. The cape rustled. 

Cas sighed, flipping slowly through a rack of shirts. “I am dating a literal child.”

Dean put the mask back on. “You’re dating batman,” He answered in a warped voice. 

Cas pulled out a red shirt and turned back to Dean, smirking. 

“Well if you’re a hero, then you need a villain.” He walked to the mask wall and pulled down a plain bandit mask, sliding it over his eyes. 

“What do you say Batman, will Robin get away tonight?”

Dean circled closer and wrapped Cas up in a hug. “I sure hope not, it would be a devastating loss.” He meant to sound a little sexy, but the mask did ridiculous things to his voice, so he pulled it off and kissed the laugh from Cas’s mouth in one smooth movement. 

“We’d better get to the scream park,” Dean said. “There’s always wild pranks pulled on anyone who’s late for a team building thing.”

Cas pressed another quick kiss to Dean’s lips and extracted himself from Dean’s arms. He flicked quickly though the capes, coming out triumphant with a muted yellow one. He slipped it over his shoulders, tied the thin string around his neck, then ran down the stairs, letting the cape whip behind him. 

Dean laughed and followed, stopping quickly in Cas’s room to grab his things before heading out to the car.


	18. Haunted House and a Turtle

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I struggled so much with this chapter. I don’t even know how it really turned out because I skim edited, but I don’t want to look at it anymore so…moving on.

The sun was starting to set by the time they parked on the stamped down grass. Cas followed Dean out of the car and past some stacked hay bales where some of the team members were loosely gathered. 

“Hey Gordon,” Dean nodded. Gordon was dressed in a colourful flowery shirt with a couple lei necklaces around his neck and a straw hat. He had his arm slung around a curvy woman with a cat ear headband tucked over her box braids.

“Dean! You made it. And what are you supposed to be?”

“Batman,” Dean answered, holding up his mask.

“Well you damn sure ain’t batman with that thing in your hand.”

Dean rolled his eyes and slid the mask on. From the cut openings, he could see Cas grin at him. 

“This is Cas,” He rumbled. Gordon barked out a laugh at the warped voice. 

“Gordon. Nice to meet you man.” He reached out and shook Cas’s hand, then reached back to the woman. “This sweet thing is Tanya.”

“Cool costume,” Tanya nodded, popping a bubble with her bright pink gum. 

“I think some of the boys are on the hay ride. We can catch the next one.”

“That sounds fun,” Tanya said, stretching up to kiss Gordon. He immediately wrapped her up in his arms and pulled her closer. It didn’t look like they intended to pull apart anytime soon.

“We’ll catch you guys later,” Dean said, quickly grabbing Cas’s hand and tugging him away.

“Haunted house at 7!” Gordon called to their retreating backs. 

They broke into a run, capes billowing behind them, and only stopped once they reached the entrance to the corn maze. A scrawny teenage girl dressed as a scarecrow handed them a slip of paper on which she wrote the time. 

“If you make it out in half an hour you get a prize.” She scratched at the straw bunches sticking out of her sleeves and passively turned to the people behind them. 

“An incentive. Interesting,” Cas said, plucking the paper from Dean’s fingers and tucking it into his back pocket after inspecting it. 

“I don’t know about you, but I absolutely suck at mazes,” Cas admitted.

“I’ve never done one before,” Dean shrugged. Cas’s eyes widened. 

“Well then we better do well on this one.” He pulled Dean into the tall corn stalks and picked a direction at random. 

“How do you know which way to go?” Dean asked, amused at Cas’s instant enthusiasm.

“You don’t. If you hit a dead end, you go back, and you hope that you remember where you’ve already been so you don’t hit the same dead end again.”

They did indeed hit a dead end, but Cas didn’t linger, just swivelled right back around and chose the opposite fork. 

Dean plucked a dried ear of corn from one of the stalks and pulled the browned husk away layer by layer as he walked. The hard little kernels of corn winked bright yellow at him and he twisted his hand tightly around them, ripping a handful of them off at once. He tossed them in the air and they rained down on both him and Cas. 

“Dean!” Cas protested, shaking dried kernels out of his hair. “We’ve gotta focus. I don’t want to lose.”

Dean smirked and tugged on Cas’s hand, pulling him into a thicket of corn that was obviously not part of the path. He didn’t give Cas any time to protest, just dove down and kissed him deeply. 

“Aww gross guys,” a voice protested from the path. 

Cas pulled away, dazed and breathless and bumped straight into Benny’s solid chest. Dean only laughed. 

“This was supposed to be a family friendly place,” Hester chuckled. 

“Aw knock it off,” Dean answered, heart fluttering when Cas reached over and laced their fingers together. 

“Did you guys find the way out?” Cas asked, addressing the group, boys and their plus ones all seemed too giddy and distracted to care, some were sporting steaming styrofoam cups. 

“Heck no. We’ve been circling around for forty minutes at least and we keep landing back here because _someone_ sucks with directions,” Inas said accusingly, jutting his chin towards Edgar who was suddenly very interested in the sky. 

“Not his fault this whole place looks the same,” Kevin defended. 

“Well hey. We just started but that’s a dead end,” Dean jumped in, pointing to the path they had just come from. “Wanna stick together and get out of here?” 

“That sounds like a plan. I’d hate to get pranked for being late to the haunted house,” Benny admitted. 

The group wound their way through the maze, and despite Cas’s initial warning that he wasn’t very good at this, he turned out to be the best navigator of the group. At forks in the path, they split up and whenever one group reached a dead end, they would caw, loudly and obnoxiously, causing the other group to screech and yell back like a homing beacon until they found one another again. 

By the time they exited the maze, they were all breathless and hoarse from laughing and yelling, and several of the workers gave them unimpressed looks. 

Cas pulled the crumpled slip from his pocket and let go of Dean’s hand to give it to the worker dressed as a ghost who was comparing times. 

“One minute to spare,” they said, offering a congratulations and gesturing behind them to a bin of stuffed animals. 

Dean dug his hand down, grabbed hold of something at random, and came up with a purple and blue turtle. He presented it to Cas, who laughed and hugged it immediately. The sky was mostly dark now and the park was lit with strings of bare bulbs. The fake lighting made Cas’s hair look tinted with gold, and Dean had a hard time tearing his eyes away. 

“Last one to the house is a rotten egg!” Richard called out, grabbing a random arm and tearing off in a run. 

“Are you kidding me?” Cole called after him. “Are we five?” But he also took off in a run after him. 

Cas and Dean shared a split second glance, then bolted. Dean quickly overtook the entire team. He felt like a real superhero, tearing up the ground, running as fast as his legs would go in the chilled night air, cape billowing behind him, feet barely skimming the ground. He slowed to a stop against a hay bale and took off his mask so he could catch his breath. Cas crashed to a stop against him not long after that. 

There was a group of about thirty or so people at the door of the huge barn. A worker was reading an elaborate tale about how someone got kidnapped earlier that night and it was up to the group to find clues and rescue them. She went over some rules and explained that the entire barn was open for exploring, then wished them luck and tugged the barn doors open, hinges rusted and squeaking. 

“Here we go,” Henry whispered, warbling his voice to sound like a ghost. Dean smacked his arm and filtered in with the rest of the group. They spread out in the weak red lighting but Cas lingered close enough that Dean could feel the radiating warmth of him. 

Hidden speakers made sporadic sounds. Static and bats, creaking wood, the occasional scream. Actors draped in moulded cloth strips darted in front of them and skeletons hung from the high ceiling. 

Cas drifted over to a squat arched tunnel that read _Graveyard_ and Dean followed him through. It opened into an even darker room. There were foam gravestones stuck in the dirt floor. 

“This is creepy,” Cas whispered by his ear. From outside the tunnel, there was a loud bang and several people screamed. 

“That’s the point,” Dean whispered back. 

From behind them, Someone jumped out and screamed, waving their arms and tossing something that felt like crawling spiders in webs on them. 

Dean gave a little yelp and danced around, trying to shake off the tickling mess that felt like it was crawling down the back of his shirt and under his cape. Cas was doing a similar and equally ridiculous dance beside him. 

Dean grinned at him in the barely there light. It was a strange sort of thrill, to be somewhere you expected to be scared but not know when the scare would come. He was on edge, senses razor sharp.

From the shadows behind a gravestone, a soft rope snaked out and wrapped itself around Dean’s arm. Another came out and tangled through his legs. 

Dean immediately thrashed and pulled, but the rope was well and truly twisted, and suddenly he couldn’t breathe because the rope was a belt and the zombie that was now apologetically turning on a small flashlight and untying him was his father. 

The darkness of the room was closing in and choking him. 

Cas, from somewhere at his side, must have put a hand on his shoulder because it felt warmer there, but that was the only part of Dean that was unfrozen. Except for that handprint of contact, the rest of him was more tense than marble, waiting for the next blow to rain down. 

Vaguely, he was aware of being gently guided outside. The sky opened up wide and cold above him and it wasn’t so impossibly dark anymore. There were low chunky clouds glowing a faint orange from the light pollution of the city. 

Dean exhaled all at once and the real world came crashing back around him. Cas was loosely holding both his elbows, looking more concerned than Dean had seen anyone look his entire life. 

“Sorry,” he breathed out, suddenly embarrassed. 

“Can I hold you?” Cas asked instead of acknowledging his apology. Dean nodded, somewhat stunned that Cas would ask permission for something like that. Cas leaned slowly forward and enveloped Dean in a loose hug, hands splayed wide and warm over his back. 

Dean sighed into it and muscle by muscle, he relaxed and sunk back into his own body. The first thing he became aware of was how ridiculous he was being, standing in the middle of the park in a Batman cape hugging Robin. The second thing he realized was that his mask was gone. He must have dropped it in the haunted house. 

“The mask,” Dean said softly against Cas’s shoulder. 

“Dean, the mask doesn’t matter. Are you okay?” Cas pulled back just enough to look Dean in the eye, but kept his hands crossed behind Dean’s lower back. 

“Sorry,” Dean repeated. 

Cas squinted at him and Dean got that message loud and clear. 

“I wasn’t expecting to be tied,” Dean answered evenly. There was weight behind those words. The weight of an extremely crappy childhood. The weight of too many stupid drunk nights spent at the wrong hands. The weight of a fear pushed down day after day for years. 

Cas looked like he had something to say, but just then a small child tore out of the haunted house yelling with glee and waving around the Batman mask. He made a beeline for a woman that must have been his mother and was bouncing with excitement as he put the mask on and spoke, then burst into a fresh round of laughter, which was warped strangely through the mask’s voice box. 

The heavy mood broke, and whatever Cas was going to say evaporated and he laughed instead. 

“I don’t think you’ll be getting that back Dean.”

Dean watched the child, who was now singing a nursery rhyme in a slightly more childish version of Batman’s voice. 

“Gabriel is gonna kill me.”

Cas shrugged against him. “He won’t mind as long as it’s in good hands now.”

They both watched the small family walk off towards the parking lot, hand in hand.

“Hay ride?” Cas asked, eyes shining behind his robbers mask. Dean’s heart melted. He didn’t think he would be able to ever deny Cas a thing. Not when he was looking at him like that. 

They stopped to buy some spiced apple cider and held the warm styrofoam cups carefully as the stepped up into the wagon and picked a hay bale to sit on. Most of the team was still wandering around in the haunted house, so the wagon was fairly empty. 

Dean switched his cup to the other hand and laced his fingers with Cas’s, then let himself indulge a little and leaned slightly against Cas. The turtle was set neatly on Cas’s thigh, it’s glossy black eyes staring at nothing. 

“I can’t believe soccer season is almost over,” he mused, taking a small sip of the hot cider.

“Oh right, you have your last game tomorrow,” Cas answered against his hair. 

Dean hummed in agreement. The wagon did a lazy tour of the farm, bumping gently over dirt paths through another corn maze, past a large pumpkin patch, out through a wheat field, then did a slow turn to do it all in reverse. 

They sat in comfortable silence, borrowing each other’s warmth, and despite the involuntary trip down trauma lane, Dean felt safe in that moment. 

He took another sip from his cup and glanced up at the sky, where two stars winked down at him, powerful enough to cut through the light pollution. 

Two lone stars. Or maybe one of them was a planet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay. Quick life update. I survived the plague, and now I’m FINALLY able to go back to work. (Huge thank you to all you crazies who are staying home. I honestly don’t know how you stay sane and I have nothing but respect for you.) 
> 
> I started a new job at a maximum security federal prison this week and it was been WILD. Nursing in that environment is 100% different and I never thought I would end up doing something like this. (Now I’m curious if any of you have crazy jobs.) 
> 
> But anyways. All that to say that I’m now thinking of writing another long fic with some crazier more offbeat content. Mafia or spy related? I don’t even know, its a 2% formed idea, but would you guys be interested in reading something like that once this one is over?


	19. Not This Bar

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I should come up with some sort of updating schedule, but I get too excited to hear from you guys as soon as I have a chapter written and I need feedback because I’m weak so I always end up posting right away. Take this as a gift for waiting so patiently for the last chapter. 
> 
> NonCon flashback in this one. The idea to include a noncon was first planted by Himram, and I’ve got to say, I felt absolutely evil the entire time I was writing this, so please let me know what you thought while reading it because I don’t know if I can put myself through that again. If needed, skip from “Hey handsome” to “As soon as he was out of sight”

The crowd roared as the clock ticked. 

Two seconds, one, zero.

Dean felt like his heart would explode. He raked a hand through his sweaty strands of hair to push it out of his face and tore off in a run to centre field, where he didn’t even bother to slow down, just took a running leap right onto the shoulders of the nearest team member. 

They had won. 

Champions. 

Undefeated. 

Dean had never been more proud, and he didn’t think he would ever stop yelling in celebration now. 

There was Kevin, who had grown a whole foot and put on some serious muscle in the four months of the season. Benny, Cole, Henry, Gordon, who he had watched morph from boys to men. Who he had trained hours with over the past four years. Inas and Edgar, who were impressive during the September tryouts, but who were absolute beasts on the field now. Azazel, who seemed to somehow get faster each day. Richard and Hester, insatiable during training and drills. 

Dean slapped backs at random and laughed as someone sprayed water through a partially opened bottle. It was too loud to talk over the roaring cheers and thundering applause, but he had one hell of a speech prepared for these men later. 

Coach Mills joined them and at some point, a large trophy was passed onto the field. The boys gripped it, holding it high and letting it float among themselves so each could touch it. Dean forgot all about his screaming muscles and lungs and basked in the glory of a flawless season. 

Even the defeated team didn’t stay deflated for long. It was a well played game, and there’s nothing more satisfying than that. 

Once the pomp and ceremony and photographs were over, the crowd flooded onto the field to congratulate the players. Charlie jogged down and gave Dean a wide grin, snapping shots at random. 

“You guys played so well! Congratulations!” She yelled over the burble of the crowd. 

“Thank you!” Dean yelled back, accepting her little side hug. She slipped off into the crowd, probably to congratulate the rest of the players, and Dean watched her disappear until a black mop of hair caught his eye.

“Cas!” He yelled, raising his arms up. 

Castiel saw him, and pushed through the milling people. Once he reached Dean he crouched low and wrapped his arms tightly around him, raising him and spinning him in a tight circle. 

Dean laughed and pounded lightly on his back, so Cas dropped him back to the ground. 

“You’re strong for an art student,” he laughed. Cas’s eyes were gleaming with pride. 

“You did amazing Dean. That one pass? It went all the way across the field!” 

Dean grinned. Cas didn’t know the first thing about soccer, but the fact that he still came out to support him said more than words ever could. 

“Come home with me,” Dean said loudly by Cas’s ear. Maybe not the sexiest invitation, but it was _loud_ out there. 

Cas nodded in response and leaned up an inch to give Dean a peck on the lips. They pushed through the crowd and Dean wrestled his way into the change room for his duffle bag. Most of the guys had already cleared out their stuff. Some were in the showers. 

They had all planned to meet at the bar that evening, either to celebrate or to make up for the loss. Dean was glad it was a celebration. 

He swung his bag over his shoulder ignoring how his uniform shirt stuck to his skin with sweat, then hurried back out of the change room to Cas.

They walked, occasionally bumping shoulders to the lot where Cas had parked his car, and Cas clicked open the trunk and spun around with an armful of roses.

“Surprise!”

“Cas,” Dean snorted, dropping his bag to the floor. “What..?”

“They’re for you!” Cas said, enthusiastically pushing the flowers towards Dean. They were gorgeous. Deep velvety red with teeny white flowers artfully peeking out between them. 

“I want you to know I’m very proud of you and all you have accomplished this season. I also appreciate all the effort you put into working out because it makes you very easy on the eyes.”

Dean laughed for real this time, but accepted the roses and pulled Cas into a sweaty hug, knowing by now that he didn’t mind. 

“I love..” He cut off, heart racing, “them.”

If Cas noticed the strangled pause, he didn’t say anything. 

“Let’s get home. You’ll get sick.” 

Dean rolled his eyes but put his bag in the trunk, shut it, and followed Cas into the car anyways. It was properly cold out with halloween just around the corner, probably not a good idea to stand drenched in sweat in the wind. 

Cas drove and parked carefully in front of Dean’s building, then held the roses while Dean unlocked the door. 

“Are you coming to the bar with us?” Dean asked hopefully as he toed off his shoes and went into his room for a change of clothes. 

“Yeah I could,” Cas called from the kitchen. Dean heard the sounds of him filling something with water and the crinkle of the cellophane around the flowers. He pulled off his sweaty shirt and tossed it into the laundry bin before setting his fresh clothes on the counter in the bathroom. 

“I can’t stay too long though, got another photo shoot at sunrise.”

Dean poked his head out of the bathroom door. “Why on earth would someone choose to go through so much effort before the sun is even up?”

Cas scoffed, crunching the now empty flower wrappings into a ball and tossing it in the trash. 

“Says the guy who wakes up at the crack of dawn every morning and _runs_.”

Dean rolled his eyes and turned on the shower. “Running doesn’t require any thinking though,” He called out over the sound of the running water. Cas didn’t answer, so Dean stepped into the spray and quickly soaped up his hair. 

It didn’t take long, but by the time he stepped out of the bathroom in jeans and a dark green flannel, Cas had fixed a plate of sandwiches and was sitting at a kitchen stool. 

“Wow. I’m really getting spoiled today aren’t I?”

Cas gave him a small smile and picked up a sandwich before sliding the plate over to Dean. 

They were simple, made from slightly stale bread and whatever random ingredients he had laying around in the fridge, but Dean had never tasted anything so good. 

“What’s the photo shoot about?” Dean asked from behind a mouthful of his third sandwich.

Cas squinted.

“What?” Dean asked, swallowing the huge bite. “You never really tell me about your pictures.”

“I didn’t think you were very interested. You’ve never asked before,” Cas answered lightly. 

Dean’s eyes widened. “Of course I’m interested. But I don’t know, I thought it was like how a painter won’t reveal a masterpiece until it’s finished. I don’t know how art etiquette works.”

Cas paused and swallowed his bite before answering. “I’m finishing my shadow series. Charlie is helping me.”

“Series? Charlie?” Dean prompted.

“I work with concepts and take pictures that go with that theme. She liked this concept and wanted to be a part of it.”

“Huh,” Dean mused, brushing crumbs off his hands. “I didn’t realize you knew her.”

“Since high school.”

“She’s a cool gal,” Dean admitted, then suddenly felt ridiculous. Who says gal anymore? He cleared his throat. “So what do you do with the series once it’s done?”

Cas swiped a thumb across his bottom lip to wipe away an invisible crumb. “Usually I do a show. If anyone wants to buy the photos they can. I keep a copy in albums. Or rather, Gabriel does. He’s sort of a hoarder and has a whole library of them.”

Dean was a little stunned. “I didn’t realize you had shows, that sounds kinda fancy.” 

What did he expect? The whole family seemed like experts at something. It should have come as no surprise that Cas’s photos were sought after and people actually paid money for them. He suddenly was aware how out of his league Cas was. 

“You should come to a show, whenever the next one is.” Cas said lightly. 

And suddenly that feeling was gone. Sure, maybe Cas was too good for him, but he wanted Dean anyways, and that counted for everything. 

“I would love to come Cas. Actually, I’d love to see some of those albums."

Cas looked down. If Dean didn’t know any better, he’d say Cas was blushing. “You can watch me develop tomorrow’s rolls if you want.”

Dean grinned. “Yes I do want.”

His phone buzzed and Dean flipped it over. 

“Benny’s asking where we are. I guess some of the guys are already at the bar.”

“Well we’d better head out then, “ Cas said, rinsing the single plate in the sink and setting it on the counter to dry. Dean grabbed his wallet and keys and locked the door. The bar was just a few blocks over, so they walked. It was cold out, especially after the sun had set. 

The inside of the place was fairly packed. Sleazy music with a heavy beat filtered through huge speakers in the corners of the room, and bodies writhed on the dance floor, some just bopping along to the music, a couple properly dancing, most just grinding shamelessly. 

Dean steered Cas away and towards the bar, suddenly uncomfortable with having brought him here. This was a place he frequented when he was having a bad night and looking for something quick and dirty. It didn’t usually end well, and for some reason he wanted Cas out of there. 

Cas, for all it was worth, looked completely unfazed. He ordered and paid for two beers and handed one to Dean, who immediately drained most of it. 

“You okay?” Cas asked, eyeing him strangely. 

Dean nodded, tearing his eyes away from the dance floor where he had been desperately hoping not to see any familiar faces. He shot Cas a smile, hoping it didn’t seem too fake. He was determined to enjoy himself. This was supposed to be a big night where he could celebrate, he’d be damned if he’d let a couple memories ruin it. 

“Let’s dance,” Dean said, putting his empty beer next to Cas’s full one and tugging him towards the floor. Cas didn’t comment on the uncharacteristic request. Actually he seemed kind of excited about it, and it took Dean all of two seconds to figure out why. 

Cas was a really good dancer. 

He pulled Dean in and twisted to the music, guiding them this way and that, ducking under his arms and spinning around in a way that made Dean feel like it was all choreographed and he somehow also knew every step. Cas used the momentum from each move to guide Dean into the next one, and he found himself laughing with the ridiculousness of it all. 

Cole and a short curly haired girl shimmied closer and Cole grinned. 

“Great job out there man!”

Dean was spun out of Cas’s arms and the small group rearranged, moving along to the beat of the song. Dean chose not to comment on how awkwardly Cole was dancing. If it weren’t for Cas he knew he would be hopeless too. 

At some point, Benny and Gordon glided past, doing a ridiculous swing dance even though the music was totally wrong, but they didn’t seem to care because they were laughing too hard. 

A table in the corner was set up for pool, and once it was free, Dean joined Kevin for a round. The team had gathered around and were placing bets on each hit. Dean accepted whatever drinks were handed to him by his friends, and by the time the game was over most of them were buzzed from all the shots taken. 

Dean congratulated Kevin on his win, telling himself firmly that he had _let_ the kid beat him, and handed his cue to Inas, who had challenged Azazel to a round. 

Cas put a hand lightly on his shoulder and Dean leaned in.

“I’m going to head out.”

“You have to?”

“Yeah sorry, I already stayed way too long,” Cas said apologetically. Dean flipped his wrist and checked his watch. It was already nearing midnight. 

“I’ll walk you to your car.”

“Dean I’m okay. Stay and have fun with the team. It’s just a couple blocks.” Cas kissed him once on the lips and Dean didn’t have a chance to protest again before he slipped out of his arms and through the door. A loud cheer from the pool table drew his attention and he allowed himself to be pulled back into the mix, where he crushed a boasting Gordon in a game just to prove that he could. 

Benny leaned over the table to rack the balls up again, and Dean left before the next two contestants could be decided. He made his way back to the bar and ordered another beer. From the stool, he could watch the reactions to the game, and someone must have royally lost a bet because the team went wild and all piled around someone. 

Dean took a small drink, grinning. He was seriously going to miss this particular assortment of players. 

“Hey handsome,” Said an oily voice right into his ear. Dean whipped around and his stomach dropped through the floor. 

“Dick.”

“Heyyy! You remembered. Was it the name or was it the long thick-“

“What do you want?” Dean interrupted, suddenly feeling very sick and more than ready for this conversation to end. Of course he would remember this guy. Some stupid decisions you never forget. 

“You,” Dick answered, leaning in to say the words right against Dean’s cheek. Dean jerked backwards. 

“Hey, don’t be like that. You know you want it.”

“I don’t, actually,” Dean answered sharply. 

“Right. That’s exactly what you said last time and then I finally convinced you and it was so good you cried.”

Dean bit down hard on his tongue, trying to keep his anger in check. It had probably been two years or more since their last encounter, but the memory of it still made him sick. Some part of him still hated himself for letting it happen. For getting into that situation in the first place. 

_It had been an incredibly rough night. His mind was tormenting him, throwing forward all sorts of twisted memories of the times he had royally screwed up as a child and people got hurt because of him. After a couple sleepless nights, he couldn’t take the stress and the swinging of his moods anymore, so he sauntered down to the bar looking for..something. Anything. A distraction. That’s exactly what he got._

_Dick must have sensed something was off because he gravitated towards Dean right away. He was nice enough to get him properly drunk, which Dean stupidly took as a sign that he would be caring, maybe even make the next part a little pleasant. He followed Dick into a back room and whether it was from the alcohol slugging through his veins or his bone deep depression leaching all his energy, he couldn’t say, but he had no will to fight. Between one moment and the next he found himself with his boxers around his ankles, face mashed into the concrete floor, ass in the air._

_Dick had shoved two fingers into him right away, and the dry pull of skin against skin made Dean cry out, which only seemed to encourage him. One thrust, then two, and Dean was already screaming out for it to end, for Dick to please stop, but nobody heard him over the thump of the music, or maybe nobody cared. Dick surely didn’t seem to as he removed his fingers and pushed into Dean, long, hard, and dry._

_Dean fisted his own hair and screamed through his clenched teeth, his body clamping down in pain. When it was over, Dean lay curled on the cool floor. He didn’t open his eyes to watch Dick put his soft cock back into his pants, but he heard every movement. A crumpled twenty fluttered down and landed on his face, and Dick was gone without a word._

_When Dean finally pushed his shame and hatred away far enough that he could breathe, he stood slowly, ignoring the pain in his ass and the goop running down his legs. At least some of the warm fluid was blood._

_He roughly tugged his clothes up and left the bar, stumbling fully clothed into a scalding shower at home. He had wanted a distraction, and he had got it, but he hadn’t wanted it like that._

Now, Dick’s hand curled damp and heavy around Dean’s, trying to pull him closer. Dean tried to pry his hand away, suddenly hating the tipsy fog his mind was in. 

“Mmm. Feisty baby. Let me buy you another drink huh?” Dick gestured to the bartender, who cracked open another beer and slid it over the counter. 

“Leave me alone,” Dean gritted out. His hand itched where it was trapped under Dick’s. He wanted to burn it off. He wanted to crawl out of his skin. 

“What’s wrong my sweet? Has it been too long? Have you forgotten how good I can make you feel?”

Dean felt bile rise up in his throat, and probably would have leaned down and thrown up sandwiches and beer, but another heavy arm draped itself possessively around his shoulders. 

“I don’t think my boyfriend is interested,” Benny said, cold as frozen steel from above Dean. 

Dick paled, because of course he would. Benny was a nearly three hundred pound wall of muscle, and at the moment, he looked absolutely furious. 

“Better watch your boy more closely next time. Looked like he was alone,” Dick spat before abruptly picking up the untouched beer and leaving. 

As soon as he was out of sight, Benny removed his arm and Dean went boneless, slumping down in the chair and letting his face fall into his hands. 

“Thanks Ben,” Dean mumbled. 

“Who was that,” Benny asked, eyebrows scrunched and clearly still somewhat displeased even though his rocky anger wasn’t showing anymore. 

Dean looked up at him, suddenly exhausted. It had been a long night. Heck, it had been a long life. 

“Fine,” Benny said after it became clear that Dean wouldn’t answer. “You just looked like you’d swallowed glass, that’s all.” 

“Thanks for coming over,” Dean said, because he at least owed Benny that. He knew his friend suspected at least part of his long and twisted history with stupid one night stands, and it was a relief to know he had someone in his corner. 

“I’m going home,” Dean said, voice hollow. 

“Okay. Let’s go.” Benny answered, rising from his perch on the barstool.

“Benny, you should stay. I’m fine on my own.”

Benny huffed. “Like hell you are.” And that was the end of that. Dean followed Benny thought the crowd and out the doors, feeling like he was floating away, pushed right out of his own body somehow. They turned the corner and headed towards Dean’s building. 

“You’re not my boyfriend,” Dean informed him, swaying slightly as he walked. 

Benny’s lips quirked up in a small smile. He shoved his hands into his pockets. “Yeah, I know.”

They walked side by side in the cool night air.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> DONE. I closed that horrid soccer plot line. If I ever start to write about sports again one of you needs to pipe up and stop me.


	20. The Tooth Fairy and the Cowboy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Done. I'm absolutely done with myself. From now on I will be updating this fic on Saturdays, and if I don't stick to that schedule, feel absolutely free to threaten me however you see fit. Life literally gets so hectic sometimes but I really should get better at posting regularly. 
> 
> On a completely different note, the job switch has been interesting. I can't remember if I said anything about it already but I'm working as a prison nurse now, which has been _wild._

“Happy Halloween!” Cas said brightly to a small child covered in a huge white sheet. A tiny _thank you_ floated out from under the costume and Cas dumped the last of their candy into the child’s overstuffed pillowcase, then waved his sparky pink wand at their retreating back. Dean snorted beside him and adjusted his cowboy hat.

“What?” Cas asked, mockingly offended. 

“Nothing. I just can’t believe Hazel convinced you to dress up as the _tooth fairy.”_

“You’re one to talk. She got you to dress up as a cowboy and she _barely_ had to use her puppy dog eyes.”

Dean raised an eyebrow at him. “Cas, cowboys are manly. I am _proud_ to wear these boots.” He stepped out with one leather boot to widen his stance and rested both hands on the large metal clasp of his belt.

Castiel smirked. “Manly? Sure, just not with those pants.” He moved to shut the front door and didn’t even bother trying to hide the way he was ogling Dean’s ass in his tight leathery jeans. 

Dean most definitely did _not_ blush. He whacked at Cas’s gauzy white wings and Cas sniffed, darting away and adjusting his tiara. 

“Well, that’s probably it for the night. Nobody usually comes past 9.”

Cas was right about that, the steady flow of kids had significantly dwindled down in the past hour. Dean could imagine that Hazel had also called it quits and gone back home a while ago. Castiel’s brothers were…somewhere. Probably already retired for the night. 

“Thanks for letting me help,” Dean said sincerely. He couldn’t remember the last time he had dressed up and handed out candy. Probably never.

“It was fun. I never would have guessed you’d be so good at guessing costumes,” Cas smirked.

“Hey. He was _clearly_ dressed up as Twilight Sparkle.”

“Dean, I don’t even want to _know_ where you got your my little pony knowledge from.”

Dean rolled his eyes. “Look. I swear it’s not nearly as sketchy as it sounds. I-“

“NOPE,” Cas interrupted. “Don’t want to know.”

Dean huffed. “Fine. What do you want to do then?”

“Well,” Cas started, tugging Dean in for a loose hug. His frilly purple tutu scrunched up between them. “I was going to develop some photos tonight. Wanna hang out while I do that?”

Dean’s eyes lit up. He had been begging to see some of Cas’s photography for weeks now and Cas had mostly just brushed him off, promising to show him later. It was _always_ later. 

“Yes, I would love that. But maybe we should change first? Not sure the tooth fairy would be too happy if you messed up her outfit.”

Cas whacked his arm but led the way to his room. Dean dug through his duffle bag and pulled out a thin t-shirt and a worn out pair of sweats. He turned, wondering if he should duck into the washroom to change, but Cas was already stripped out of his costume and was hopping around on one foot wearing nothing but his boxers as he tried to slip on his pants. 

Dean watched him, trying not to laugh as he finally got both feet through and tugged them up. Cas turned and caught him staring. 

Dean flushed, an apology ready on his lips, but Cas only approached him and drew him down for a slow, sweet kiss. 

“I thought cowboys were supposed to be stealthy.” 

“No, sir. Not with so much skin on display.” He let his eyes trail hungrily over Cas’s shirtless body. Cas laughed and pulled Dean’s hat off as he tugged him down for another kiss. They broke apart far too soon. 

“Change Dean, I’ll get the room set up,” Cas said, pulling his shirt over his head and disappearing down the hall. 

Dean was left hanging, warm and breathing just a little too hard. He scrambled to pull off his boots and clothes and slip into his sweats. By the time he had finished and folded up his costume, Cas had gathered some supplies and gestured with his chin towards a door at the other end of the room. 

Dean followed him into the tiny space, which turned out to be a sort of modified bathroom. There was a large plastic sink, and a tub with stains in it. Along one wall were strung wires with clips, trays lining the floor underneath them. 

“You can sit there,” Cas said, pointing to a little stool tucked beside a complicated looking machine. “Once I turn the lights off you won’t really be able to see anything so I kind of need to know where you are.”

“You do this in the dark?” Dean asked, watching curiously as Cas filled some shallow basins with liquid from different bottles. 

“Well, yeah,” Cas said, giving him a weird look. “If you do it with the lights on then all the photos turn out white.” 

“Oh,” Dean answered dumbly. Cas smiled at him and flicked off the switch. A bare red bulb turned on in it’s place, but the light was so weak Dean couldn’t see a single thing. 

“I’m blind,” Dean whispered. Cas laughed. 

“You can talk you know. Sound won’t ruin the pictures.”

“Oh,” Dean said again, at a normal volume this time. “What are you doing now?”

“Loading the film into the developing tank,” Cas answered. There were a series of clicks and scrapes and Dean could very faintly see Cas pulling a roll out of his camera and setting it aside. He put six more rolls into the solution and screwed a lid over something. 

Dean was silent, watching the faint outline of Cas moving. He shifted things around, poured liquids, and did something with the large machine beside Dean. He was mesmerizing to watch. Or to _almost_ watch. Dean couldn’t see much, but Cas’s presence was so calming. He was completely in his element here in the dark. 

The whole process took maybe 15 minutes, and when the lights clicked on again, Cas had seven film strips hanging from the wires on the wall. 

Dean stood and carefully navigated his way around the various bottles Cas had opened. The strips were all in the negative, but Dean looked closely at them anyways. They were fragments of the world, as seen through Cas’s eyes. 

In one strip, a woman was twirling through what looked like a field, great white swaths of cloth swirling around her. Her hair was swinging wildly in the wind. Dean squinted. 

“Is that…Charlie?”

“Yep,” Cas answered easily, coming up beside Dean to look at the film. 

“Huh, didn’t know you knew her.”

“Yeah, she likes to help me out sometimes. We’ve been friends since year one.”

Dean hummed and moved on to the next strip, but he couldn’t tell what he was looking at. Slices of random shapes, possibly the shadow of a staircase? The next strip was warped closeups, some blurry flashes of movement, possibly a hand or a strand of hair. 

“They’re weird, I know,” Cas said sheepishly. Dean turned and smiled at the slight blush that was playing across his cheeks. 

“Not weird. Creative in a way that’s probably way over my head.” He leaned in for a kiss and Cas took a very distinct step back. 

“I should shower first, got chemicals all over me,” Cas quickly explained, lifting both hands and wiggling his fingers. 

“You weren’t wearing gloves?” Dean practically screeched. 

“I was!” Cas immediately defended. “But things splash around.”

Dean squinted at him and inspected his hands, but nothing appeared to be burnt. “Alright, go shower then.”

Cas hesitated at the door and Dean raised an eyebrow at him. “You can look through some old albums while you wait. If you want,” Cas added quickly. 

“Yes. Yes please,” Dean immediately answered. He would _die_ for a chance to look through Cas’s photos. It was highly possible that he wouldn’t understand them a single bit better than he understood the negatives, but even those had revealed a lot about Cas. He couldn’t imagine what entire albums would show him. 

Cas led him out of the darkroom and back to his bedroom. He pointed to a small row at the bottom of his bookshelf and let Dean explore it while he ducked into the bathroom to shower. 

Dean crouched down and pulled out the first album he touched. Small and dark blue, with a lightly textured cover. He flipped it open and inhaled sharply. 

The first picture was of Gabriel lounging easily against a tree, but cut precisely into the photo, placed to look like they were part of him, were two massive wings. A dusty grey with gold reflections. 

Dean flipped the pace to see Michael, back to the camera, reaching his arms up to the sky like he had just taken a huge lungful of fresh air. Sprouting from his shoulder blades were stark white wings, like a dove’s. 

Next there was Rafael, kneeling in front of what appeared to be a younger version of Hazel. He had his hands cupped round something small, and thick vibrantly coloured wings spread up from his back. Both he and Hazel were dwarfed by them. 

Then there was a photo of a man Dean didn’t quite recognize. There were enough hints of the brothers, the shape of his jaw, the tilt of his eyes, for him to peg the guy as Lucifer. In the photo, he had his hands shoved deep into his pockets. His face was a mask of seriousness, like someone had told him to _look_ serious, but he was seconds away from cracking a smile. The dark red wings cropped into his photo were spread wide, like they were about to push down powerfully and lift him up in flight. 

Dean flipped the page again and his breath stopped. Side by side, were two pictures. One of Cas, one of _him._

Castiel was facing the camera, one hand outstretched and blurred like someone had stolen the camera from him and snapped a picture while he was trying to get it back. The wings behind him were dark, nearly black, but with a splotch of bright red near the arches. It made something warm in Dean’s heart. 

Dean’s own photo was…oddly telling. He was leaning easily in the cushioned swing in the Novak’s backyard, smiling. He remembered that moment exactly. Michael had told a wildly inappropriate joke and Rafael had swatted at him. What definitely hadn’t been there were the wings that were present in the photo. Dean ghosted his fingers over them, soft and brown, with small white spots. He looked…touchable. Somehow vulnerable and in need of protection. 

The thought, the possibility that maybe Cas saw him that way, didn’t bother him as much as he thought it would have. He felt oddly at peace instead. Dean snapped the album shut before he could get all mopey over it and quickly grabbed another one. 

This second album was even stranger than the first. Each photo was of roots, held up against impossibly blue skies. Sometimes there were clouds, sometimes street lamps, sometimes slivers of storefronts, but mostly it was roots, torn and mangled with clumps of dirt hanging off of them. Dean wondered if Cas sometimes felt like that, uprooted and floating freely, untethered where he should be buried deep. 

The third album was nothing but _backs._ The back of a mother, tugging her child, pushing a stroller with one hand, a baby bag half open on her shoulder. She was digging for something inside it while somehow also talking on a cell phone. It was chaotic and busy and Dean wanted to reach through and offer her some help. But it was just a photo of a moment that had already passed. 

One picture was of Gabriel’s back as he jumped off a cliff into the water below. His hair was sticking straight up and his body slightly blurred from the speed of his fall. 

Each photo was more striking than the last, filled with fleeting moments of humanity, a breakup, waiting in line, a mailman crouching to set down a package. They were mundane moments, but Dean suddenly felt more in love with the world than he ever had before. 

This is what Castiel saw. He saw the beauty in these slices of time that everyone else breezed past with their eyes closed. 

Dean opened a fourth album almost reverently now. He flipped through a couple photos until he caught on. This series was clearly something to do with shadows, but he couldn’t always place what the shadows were from, and he was sure he didn’t quite understand the message behind the shoot either. There was a tree casting dark crooked lines through the sun faded material of a porch swing. A dark reflection on the pavement that was so obscure it could have been a couple of teenagers kissing or just some piled rocks. 

Some photos were blurry, some cut off in strange places, and none of them really had a _subject,_ they just _were._

When Cas came back into the room some time later, Dean didn’t even hear him until he walked over and touched his shoulder. He turned to look at the man he called his _boyfriend_ with more awe than he ever had before. How could he have lived his entire life without knowing this beautiful mind?

“Cas,” Dean breathed, not caring that his voice gave away his every feeling. Cas smiled sweetly down at him and tugged him up. Dean enveloped him in a hug, inhaling the scent of his body wash. 

“You are _beautiful._ ”

Cas pulled away and looked at him with a bright grin. “You like them?”

“Like them? Cas you’re a _genius._ I’ve never seen anything like it. You could sell those albums for _millions._ Why are you even in school, man? You should storm the world doing whatever Picassa and Michelangelo did.”

Cas snorted. “Picasso. And…those guys were legends. Are legends. I guess I sell pieces too, but I doubt I’ll ever be anything like them, Dean.”

It was Dean’s turn to scoff now. “Don’t discount yourself like that, Cas. I swear, with that talent, you could have the world at your feet.”

“I have the world,” Cas said softly, hugging Dean closer. He laughed when Dean opened his mouth and nothing came out. “Let’s get some sleep,” Cas said, gently tugging Dean to bed. He lifted the covers and laid them gently back down again once they had both slid in. 

Dean reached out and drew Cas closer until he was curled around him, head on his chest, one leg thrown over his, arm slung over his waist. He laid there, breathing in time with Cas, wondering how he had ever gotten so lucky. 

“Dean,” Cas breathed hotly against his neck. There was so much _love_ poured into that single word, that Dean understood everything it carried. He didn’t need a single thing more. For his entire life, he had lived off of scraps of attention, and now, laying there, it was like a feast for his starving heart. 

He ran his fingers through Castiel’s messy hair until his breathing evened out and his muscles loosened. Dean eventually fell asleep as well, safe and warm in more ways than one.


End file.
